Everything Burns
by Aida15
Summary: Harry Potter is dead, along with most of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater in Lord Voldemort's inner circle on a mission. Hermione is the leader of a resistance against Voldemort's rule of terror. Draco/Herm
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Footsteps quickened down a darkened corridor and the sharp sound pierced the oppressive silence. A black robe billowed out from behind. Paintings on the walls stirred in their sleep as the brightness of the light from a wand touched their faces every so often. Blonde hair and grey eyes glinted in the sudden light, as the young wizard briskly strode down the halls of Malfoy Manor. A painting of Lucius Malfoy glared down at the wizard who had entered the Manor, but said nothing as the rest of his ancestors muttered darkly. A sardonic smirk twisted the young man's features and stopped in front of a double door with ornate silver decorations inlaid into the wood. Taking a deep breath, the wizard shut off his light and opened the double doors.

"Draco," came and icy, high-pitched voice. A pair of red slits glittered malevolently at Draco Malfoy from the darkness. "So dangerously close to being late."

Draco kneeled in front of Lord Voldemort and replied, "My Lord, forgive me. I came here as fast as I could." His black robe pooled around him like ink. Gracefully standing up, Draco faced his master. He could see Lord Voldemort clearly now, in the dull light. His face was bone-white as ever and his lidless eyes were unnervingly perceptive.

"Is that so?" Voldemort asked softly, his red eyes probing into Draco's metallic ones. Draco's spine stiffened but gave into the intrusion of his mind. Resistance was futile. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, Voldemort gestured to one of the seats lining the walls of the room along with a handful of Death Eaters in them. Draco sat in one of the chairs, aware of the eyes on him. His face was stony as he looked back at Voldemort.

"As you all know, Potter is dead," Voldemort addressed the Death Eaters, his voice as soft as ever. "Sixteen years of work and finally the reward has come. My loyal Death Eaters have played an instrumental part in bringing down the Order. There are only a few left who work at the Ministry, but they hardly pose a threat," Voldemort paused and scanned the Death Eaters, watching for any show of weakness. "Under my administration, the Purebloods will remain supreme and those who are not will be eliminated. Yaxley, Macnair, and Umbridge will continue to work in the Ministry, as well as other Death Eaters who have proved their worth. But the Ministry is not what concerns me. There is a small uprising against Lord Voldemort. Do not underestimate them, for size does not account for strength. Draco!" Voldemort addressed the young Malfoy.

Draco stood up, his face devoid of expression. "Yes, my Lord?"

Voldemort's nostrils flared as his surveyed the young man in front of him. "Find and destroy them."

Draco loosened his tie as he Apparated into his flat, thoroughly exhausted from the day's events. He had forgotten how draining it was to be summoned by the Dark Lord and have so much expected of him. This wasn't a particularly difficult mission, other than the fact that there were uprisings against the Dark Lord everywhere. There had been a few steadily gaining support by the general mass of Mudbloods and blood traitors. This group must have been particularly clever to have been flying under the radar for so long without the Dark Lord noticing until a couple days ago. Peeling off his robe and shirt, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and stuck his wand in the waistband. He turned on the light switch and winced as his head throbbed with a migraine.

"Great, just what I bloody needed," Draco muttered to himself. He flicked his wand at the kitchen and a pot placed itself on the stove and spaghetti promptly plopped inside and began to cook. Draco fingered his wand morosely as his head gave another almighty throb. He had never been good at healing spells, other than to fix broken bones or cuts.

"Honey, I'm hoooome!" Came the sing-song voice of Blaise Zabini, Draco's roommate. The door opened and shut behind a tall, stringy man.

"Merlin, Blaise, keep your voice down," Draco snapped, rubbing his temples. Blaise rolled his eyes and placed his bags against the wall.

"Nice to know I'm appreciated in this place," Blaise replied lightly as he went to his room to change.

"Blaise," Draco closed his eyes, praying for patience. "I have a migraine. That's the only reason why I asked you to be quiet. Now if you would stop antagonizing me, we can eat our dinner. There's spaghetti on the stove."

Blaise came out of his room in a grey t-shirt and shorts. "Well, I feel like a complete prick. Sorry about that – rough day at the Ministry."

Draco's hand curled into fists as he heard these words, but he kept his voice light. "What happened?"

Blaise snorted as he shoveled food into his mouth. "It's that Umbridge woman. Bloody woman has to poke her nose into everybody's business. It's not that I don't support what's going on in the Ministry right now," Blaise amended, waving his fork at the Draco. "It's just that's she's inefficient and paranoid."

Draco let out a small chuckle at his friend. "I don't like her much either, to be honest. I reckon the paranoia is only going to get worse with Umbridge." He walked towards the kitchen and scooped the spaghetti neatly into his plate.

"At least she's not the one calling the shots," Blaise replied casually, but his eyes flickered to Draco's left arm.

"I suppose," Draco answered quietly, his grey eyes suddenly brooding. Blaise opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he saw his friend's face. It reminded him too much of what happened during their sixth year.

"You want me to fix that migraine for you, mate?" Blaise asked, watching Draco carefully.

Draco let out a hard laugh. "You're just as bad, if not worse, in those kinds of spells as I am. I'll just let it run its course."

"Well, I'm going to bed," Blaise announced and punctuated it with a burp. Draco raised his eyebrow at him and rolled his eyes. "Good night."

"G'night," Draco replied, finishing his spaghetti. He put his plate in the sink. Flicking his wand, the dishes washed themselves jauntily. Draco frowned. It wasn't like him to have sloppy spellwork. Sighing, he turned off the lights in the living room and walked into his room. The room was draped in green and silver, a hangover from his Hogwarts days. News clippings and posters littered the walls and Draco's owl, Hermes, stood regally in his cage. An old Quidditch uniform lay on the floor and shirt and pants peeked out from the drawers in his dresser. There was a window to the right of the bed which allowed a cool breeze to enter his room. Draco crawled under the covers of his bead and lay on his back. His migraine and thoughts thudded in the back of his head like an anvil. Everything was changing it seemed. Ever since the death of his parents, Draco had felt like his world was balancing on a knife's point. He had continued to serve the Dark Lord, like any faithful Death Eater would. Draco had risen among the ranks of the Death Eaters and was picked for the most intriguing assignments. The Dark Lord trusted him almost as much as he had trusted Severus Snape.

Unbidden, the memory of Dumbledore and the Astronomy Tower came to him. It still haunted him after all this time. Draco's chest constricted and his breaths became shallower. Forcing himself to calm down, Draco took a deep lungful of air and exhaled slowly. He did this a couple more times until he was sure he wouldn't have the nightmares or the memories. Inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling…Draco's face smoothed over into a serene mask as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Hermione stared at her distorted reflection in the cold wood of the coffin. Tears came down her face fast and warm. She unconsciously touched the wood and traced a finger across the hinge. The black dress, black robes, the black seemed to suffocate her as she tried to escape. Anywhere but here. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough she could think of a spell that would make her melt into the ground with him. Silent sobs shook her body as she clasped her hand to her mouth, willing herself not to make a sound. With Harry gone, Hermione wasn't sure how she or Ron would go on and hunt the Horcruxes alone. Everything was backwards…Dumbledore had died in vain, Snape had died in vain, and now Harry. Hermione let out a strangled sound as she sunk to the ground, trembling.

"Hermione," Ron's soft voice drifted to her, but she didn't register what he was saying. His warm hands were on her shoulders, urging her backwards. Hermione turned to face him, her vision blurred with tears. "'Mione, they're going to bury him now," Ron mumbled softly in her ear, and she saw that his face was streaked with tears too. Hermione's hands clenched into fists. Her nails dug into her palms with the effort to keep herself from crying out. Slowly, she rose from the ground, biting her lip as she watched the great wooden coffin being lowered into the earth. She walked back to where Ginny, Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley were standing. Mr. Weasley's face was grey and his hands trembled ominously at his sides. Mrs. Weasley was choking back tears as she clung to her husband. Ginny had a hard, blazing look on her face, as though she were willing herself not to cry under any circumstances. As the last mound of earth was packed on top of the wood, Hermione found her body shaking again. Ron wrapped his long arms around her, but it made her only feel even more trapped. The reality of the situation came crashing down on Hermione, which only made her shake harder.

"It's not fair," She muttered almost inaudibly.

Ron took a shaky breath in. "It never is."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley turned back to the Burrow shocked into silence with heavy hearts. Ginny stayed with Ron and Hermione as she stared at the gravestone and mound of earth the represented Harry Potter and all that he stood for. She felt her own hands shaking but she tensed her body to stop them. _Remain strong,_ she told herself. _Death is only the beginning of a new adventure_. Ginny remembered Dumbledore's words to Harry and inexplicably her heart felt lighter. Harry would be happy on another adventure. He was a true Gryffindor. Tucking her memories away in her heart, Ginny walked back to the Burrow, a few steps behind her parents.

"Are you ready to go inside?" Ron asked. Hermione had stopped shaking, but he kept his arms locked around her.

Hermione shuddered against him, wiping the tears from her eyes. She stiffened her spine and took a breath to calm herself. "Yes." Ron took her hand and the pair of them walked to the Burrow. Hermione dimly realized that Ron's hand was around hers, but was too tired to protest. The loss of Harry grew heavy in her heart as she realized she would never see the flash of intuition in his emerald eyes or the way his glasses slid down his nose when he was up at midnight finishing a report for the Ministry. The Burrow loomed in front of the pair of them, the comforting presence suddenly distant and ominous. Hermione was afraid of all the memories that plague her as soon as she opened the doors of the Weasley's residence. For every holiday, the Burrow had been a sanctuary – a place where the three of them could get some peace and quiet and take a break from their responsibilities. Hermione feared that this emptiness crushing her would prevent her from every visiting this place again. Ron's grip on her hand tightened as they drew closer to his house and Hermione watched the resolve harden across his face. He was going to be strong for the both of them. Hermione felt like a coward, hiding behind her tears, afraid of a future without Harry. She didn't know how the Weasley's did it. Strength came with experience. The Weasley's had had much more to deal with in terms of loss than Hermione ever had. The only funeral she had been to was her grandmother's funeral when she was three years old. Hermione remembered it, but it never quite fit together in her head cohesively. The insight of a toddler could be limiting.

"Hermione," Ron muttered, shaking her out of her reverie. They had stopped walking and Hermione was in front of the door handle.

"Oh," Hermione blinked at it stupidly for a few seconds before pushing the front door open. "Sorry," She mumbled, painfully aware of Ron watching her.

"Don't apologize, you have nothing to apologize for," Ron replied, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. Hermione bit her lip and said nothing. He wasn't really irritated with her. The day had been trying for everyone, despite the show of calmness Ron had bravely tried to put on. Ron finally released her hand when they entered the Burrow and Hermione felt some of her pent up tension leave her body. The Burrow seemed haunted with grief and Mrs. Weasley haunted the kitchen, trying to cook to take her mind off of the funeral and the cold feeling spreading through everyone's stomachs. "Hey, Mum," Ron greeted quietly.

"R-Ron," Mrs. Weasley looked up, startled by the sudden appearance of Hermione and Ron. "Hermione, dear, why don't you two sit down? I can fix us some dinner…"

"Mum, you've put the pan on the stove upside down," Ron said, quietly taking it off the stove. "I'm pretty sure Dad's went to Hogsmeade and got some food. I don't think anyone is hungry right now, in any case."

Mrs. Weasley froze as her son fixed the various eccentricities of the kitchen that were caused by her preoccupation. An enigmatic emotion twisted across her face, but cleared as quickly as it came. "All right, if you say so. Ronnie, why don't you take Hermione upstairs for a bit? I'll just…clean up here and call your father," Mrs. Weasley's voice petered out towards the end of the sentence. She turned her back on Hermione and Ron as she bustled about in her kitchen. Hermione's eyes widened in concern, but Ron shook his head and steered her upstairs. They passed Ginny's room and saw her practicing spells out of _The Standard Book of Spells_ with extraordinary concentration. Hermione winced inwardly, wishing she knew how to comfort her. Ron opened the door to his room. It was cluttered as always, with textbooks sprawled here and there. It comforted Hermione to see one thing that hadn't changed. Hermione sat down on Ron's mattress heavily and crossed her legs. Ron took the seat beside her and pinched the bridge of nose, an anguished expression washing over his features. Hermione froze, unsure of what to do with his unexpected show of emotion. Ron took a deep breath and straightened his spine, grimacing at Hermione. He reached into his pocket and offered Hermione a piece of chocolate for Honeydukes.

"Ginny say they always make her feel better," He explained, popping one into his mouth. Hermione scrunched her mouth into a half-smile, remembering all the times she had visited Ginny in her dormitory with Honeydukes wrappers strewn across the floor after she broke up with Dean. She took the chocolate and allowed the bittersweet chocolate to melt on her tongue. They sat in silence for a while, Hermione leaning her head on his shoulder and Ron rubbing the tops of her arms with his large hands. The sun blazed dimly in the evening sky as it set over the hills. Clearing his throat, Ron asked, "So, do you think we should still continue without Harry?"

It took Hermione to figure out what Ron meant. "You mean with the D.A?"

Ron moved so he could read her expression. "Yes."

Hermione paused, the ache returning to her heart. "Well, it's grown so much now. Considering the fact we only started out with you, me, Harry (Hermione had to swallow an immense lump in her throat just to say his name), Neville, Ginny, and Luna – we have thirty to forty members now. It wouldn't make sense to just give up, especially now." Hermione felt Ron flinch against her body.

"I didn't mean _give up,_" Ron said defensively.

Hermione sighed against his body. "I know, I didn't mean it like that either. But, Harry would have wanted us to carry on, don't you think?"

Ron laughed, albeit with a hint of melancholy. "You're right, like always. 'Mione, what would we do without you?"

Hermione chuckled, although she felt that dreaded lump climb back up her throat and constricting her breathing capacity. "I honestly have no clue, Ronald."


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing everyone! Keep 'em coming__. I'm really glad that y'all like how the story is progressing. It's been really fun to write!_

**Chapter Three**

Draco awoke with his migraine pounding insistently against his skull. Groaning, he sat up, holding his head in both of his hands. Behind him lay a faint sweaty outline of his body on his mattress and the covers lay twisted around his torso. Draco massaged his temples, cursing himself for not paying more attention in Charms when he had had the chance. Resting his head against the headboard, he took a deep breath through his nose, trying to will the pain away. That only made it worse as the migraine throbbed particularly viciously. Opening his almost-translucent silver eyes, he gazed at his left forearm. The black tattoo snaked across his skin, burning purple in some parts and fading out to a charcoal grey in others. He traced the design with his long fingers, feeling a slight burn under his skin as his fingertips pressed down on the lines of the Dark Mark. Suddenly, a powerful wave of nausea overcame him and clapping his hand to his mouth Draco staggered to bathroom, tripping over his bed sheets on the way out. Opening the door, Draco collapsed onto the bathroom floor and retched into the toilet, shaking violently has he emptied last night's dinner from his stomach. Shuddering as the nausea passed, Draco wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet. He pressed his sweaty forehead against the cool linoleum of the wall. His bright blonde hair remained plastered against his forehead and stuck up at odd angles at the back of his head. Closing his eyes, he grabbed the bathroom counter and pulled himself up. His vision swam in front of him and he gripped the counter again to keep his balance. Inhaling deeply, he stared at his reflection in mirror and winced. He looked terrible, as if he were dying from something terminal rather than having one of the side-effects of his job. He had heard that becoming physically ill after being in the presence of Voldemort wasn't uncommon and he remembered his father vaguely going through the same thing. Draco hadn't expected it to be this bad, but he supposed it was because a meeting hadn't been called in so long. He washed the sweat and grime off his face and immediately felt better. He heard Blaise yawn in the opposite room and Draco quietly left the bathroom, making sure there was no evidence of his sickness before he left. He crawled back into his bed, lying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"You awake, mate?" Blaise asked as he stood outside Draco's closed door.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just getting dressed," Draco replied, sighing as he climbed wearily out of bed. Draco arbitrarily glanced at his clock. They had half an hour until they had to leave for the Ministry. Draco kicked himself mentally for not realizing how late it was. He pulled on a clean white button-down shirt and traded his sweatpants for slacks. "Are you ready?" He asked Blaise as he did up his black tie.

"Yeah, pretty much," Blaise replied from his room. "We still have time. Want me to put on some coffee and make breakfast?" Draco heard his footsteps travel toward the kitchen.

"Coffee sounds good, but I'll probably just buy some breakfast at the Ministry. Pansy was telling me that they have those new chocolate croissant things," Draco replied absently as he finished putting on his shoes and socks. He walked to the kitchen and chugged his coffee quickly. Blaise rolled his eyes at his friend and sipped his coffee slowly.

"Relax, we have a good fifteen minutes to get to work," Blaise drawled lazily.

"Well, it takes a good fifteen minutes to get through all the new security measures that Umbridge installed, remember? What she's protecting us from, I'm not sure…" Draco smirked at Blaise and the pair of them laughed. "How is it going with you and Marie, by the way? I'm sorry I haven't asked you about it since you asked to her to the last office party. Was it two weeks ago?"

"It's all right, it's all right," Blaise replied with a self-satisfied grin on his face. "I'm meeting her later today to get drinks."

"That's great, mate. Glad it worked out for you," Draco grinned, still scrutinizing his friend's infuriatingly smug grin. Then it dawned on him. "No. Already?"

"What?" Blaise asked, feigning innocence.

"Could you have a lousier poker face?" Draco laughed incredulously. "Did you shag her, Zabini?"

"So what if I have?" Blaise asked defiantly.

"Good lord, Blaise, it's been two _weeks_," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Awww, don't be such a sourpuss, sweetheart. You'll get some once you get your knickers out of that knot," Blaise replied with saccharine sweetness. Draco let out a hard laugh, getting up and putting on his black robe. Blaise did the same, dusting off a bit of the sugar from his sugar donut that landed on it. There was an abrupt _crack_ and the two wizards disappeared. Draco reappeared slightly out of breath in front of the Ministry of Magic main office and a few moments later Blaise appeared wheezing beside him. "I'll never get used to that bloody thing, I don't care how many times I have to do it," He muttered darkly, straightening out his robes. The two young mean strode into the Ministry, which was entrenched in its usual bustle and waves of people coming in and out. Draco and Blaise managed to successfully evade Umbridge and the safety procedure she put through every government official that she spotted in the morning. Blaise headed for his office on The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts and Draco headed towards The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. As usual he felt the pairs of female eyes watch him as he swept into his office and shut the door, grateful to escape the scrutiny. Breathing a sigh of relief, he sat down on his chair and tilted his head backwards, trying to relax himself. Loosening up his tense muscles, he started on the immense pile of paperwork that had been waiting on his desk since last week. The paperwork was the worst part of the job. Draco would rather be out of this stuffy office and on a real mission. He clenched his jaw reflexively, remembering he was already on one. His left hand curled into a fist under his desk.

"Mr. Malfoy?" squeaked a tiny wizard in lavender robes. Draco looked up from his paperwork and fought back a smirk as he looked down at the small man in front of him.

"Yes, Mr. Brandock?" Draco felt his lip curling into a cold sneer. The fear in the short man's eyes was rewarding.

"I just wanted to remind you that the briefing today is at 3:30. It's of the utmost importance," The tiny wizard announced bravely, although his voice shook slightly at the end of the sentence. Nevertheless, he stared Draco dead in the eye. Draco felt his respect for the man increase, but didn't change his forbidding posture.

"All right then, Brandock. I'll be there. Why don't you go play lapdog to Weasley or Granger and let me do my work in peace?" Draco replied flippantly, leaning back in his chair and smirking at Brandock. Draco didn't miss the incredulous dirty look that Brandock shot at him as he left. Shaking his head, he went back to the monotony of his paperwork but his day had become better. Playing with Brandock's self-esteem had become a favorite pastime of Draco's. The hours ticked by much too slowly and Draco's hand started to cramp from all the writing. Soon, it was 3:30 and Draco had finished most of his paperwork. A small smile flitted across his face and he walked out of his office and to the conference room where the smaller meetings were held. He gently pushed open the glass door, and to his surprise, he found Granger and Weasley in a heated discussion which abruptly stopped upon his entrance. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" He drawled, gracefully walking to a chair and sitting down. He surveyed the pair of them and Granger turned a faint shade of red while Weasley's face was bypassing maroon.

"Nothing, Malfoy," Granger cleared her throat uncomfortably. Weasley opened his mouth like he wanted to say something to Granger, but closed it like a gawping goldfish. "I didn't know you were joining us today."

"I work here, Granger," Draco replied lazily, but his metallic eyes scrutinized Granger. Her eyes were red and puffy; it was obvious she had been crying. Her face look sallow and her busy hair almost looked lank from the lack of care she was giving it. Her clothes hung too big on her body and her bones jutted out of her body almost intrusively. Her skin was too pale, almost as if she hadn't been outside for months. Draco felt something squirm in his gut but quickly pushed that feeling away. It wasn't his fault that Potter died, and even if it was, a _Mudblood_ wasn't worth his guilt. Draco's face smoothed into a half-amused, half-bored mask. Weasley's eyes narrowed as he followed the line of Draco's gaze.

"Watch where you're looking, Malfoy," Weasley growled, clenching his hands into fists on the table. Draco pressed his lips to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of the threat. He wasn't afraid of Weasley. Draco ignored him and continued to blatantly examine Granger. She didn't return his gaze but from the rising blush on her face, he could tell that she felt his gaze. Draco twirled his wand casually in his hand, daring Weasley to push him. There was a tick working frantically in the redhead's jaw.

"Ron, just ignore him," Granger muttered. "He's not worth it, just let it be." She pressed her small hand on top of his clenched fist which eventually relaxed and flattened onto the table top. Draco saw her sigh with relief and let go of Weasley's hand. Draco was so engrossed in their interaction that he had completely tuned out the briefing.

"…and Malfoy and Granger will be paired for the next assignment." Mr. Leenhoff concluded, stacking papers on top of his podium. Granger finally made eye contact with Draco and her face was incredulous. Draco's eyes widened as he glared at Mr. Leenhoff.

"Mr. Leenhoff, there must be some sort of mistake –," Granger interrupted, looking thoroughly shaken.

Hastily, Mr. Leenhoff amended, "My decision is final, Ms. G and can't be reversed. I chose you two because this is a difficult mission and you two are my best Aurors. I need to put my best people on this case."

Draco rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. Granger still looked shocked and almost as if she was going to argue with Mr. Leenhoff. Abruptly, the fight went out of her eyes and she slumped in her seat, shaking her head. Draco rested his hand in his hands, annoyed beyond belief.

_You've got to be kidding me_.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing and all that jazz! I appreciate the support so much as well as the constructive comments and questions. Keep 'em coming, y'all._

_ In case anyone was wondering why Draco is in Auror in the Ministry, Lord Voldemort obviously doesn't pay his Death Eaters so they all need to make a living. The reason why he's such a good "Auror" is because is he knows how the other side thinks. But since most of the Ministry is controlled by Voldemort, Draco can just get away with feeding the Aurors false information and not sell out Voldie/Death Eater buddies. Basically, it's a cover job and a way to make some money_

**Chapter Four**

The tension was palpable as Draco and Hermione sat stiffly across from each other. The rest of the staff, even Ron, had left the conference room hastily, not wanting to see the outcome of Mr. Leenhoff's unfortunate decision. The edginess was exhausting Hermione and she glanced at Draco to see his reaction to the situation. He was perfectly still, like a statue, and his face hardened into an expression of cynical amusement. It was almost as if he had expected this to happen. Hermione couldn't believe her luck. All through Potions in Hogwarts with Snape, she hadn't been paired with Malfoy once. Now, when she couldn't do anything about it and the mission actually mattered, she had to be paired with the world's biggest prick.

"Do you want to get started, then?" Hermione asked, clearing her throat nervously after what seemed to be five minutes of complete silence. Well, someone had to be the bigger person. Draco's grey eyes burned into hers but his mouth twisted up into a sardonic smile. Hermione had to bite her lip to stifle a gasp at the intensity of his gaze. Gracefully getting up, Draco opened the door for Hermione with mock formality.

"Ready when you are, _Granger_," Draco sneered her last name. His eyes glittered dangerously and Hermione could almost see them glittering from behind a silver mask and under a dark hood. She felt anger surge through her veins as a memory of Harry burst into her heart. She shoved her chair in to the table, ignoring the horrible screeching sound of the metal legs against the hard linoleum floor, and strode towards the door. Her expression was cold as she breezed past him, hardly waiting for him as she walked to her office. "That's not where my office –," Draco stopped short as Hermione whirled around furiously, daring him to finish that sentence with her expression. "Never mind," Draco muttered, surprised to learn that the bookworm had a backbone after all. He swiftly caught up to Hermione, effortlessly matching her pace with his long strides. He smirked privately as he caught the frustrated expression on her face. Had she really expected to lose a person with a good six inches on her so easily? Hermione stopped abruptly after a turn and Draco almost bumped into her.

"This is my office," Hermione said stiffly, clearing a few papers off her desk. "Pull up a chair and we can get started on this case." A few papers tumbled onto the floor, and Hermione drew in a deep breath for patience and closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, Draco had already bewitched the papers to stay neatly stacked on her desk. "Thanks," Hermione muttered irritably.

"I can't think with all your junk scattered over this place," Draco replied. Hermione bristled at this comment but didn't reply. "What _is_ the case, Granger?"

Hermione let out an annoyed sigh. His persistently cutting tone was wearing on her nerves, and she was sure it showed on her face. "If you had come to any of the other briefings this month, Malfoy, you would have known that Lord Voldemort is recruiting more werewolves to his cause, with Greyback marshalling more savage werewolves with the same ideas as him – biting young children, regardless of a full moon," Hermione summarized, her hands trembling as she brushed scraps of paper off her desk. The thought that Greyback was so purposely amoral repulsed her. But according to Lupin, that was the way most of the werewolf community viewed the wizards. They had been shunned for centuries and they were incredibly bitter. Voldemort offered children in return for their alliance. Hermione felt Draco's eyes watch her closely and she locked eyes with him. His eyes widened in surprise and dropped his gaze to the casework in front of him in an uncharacteristic gesture.

"Obviously it involves Greyback," Draco replied, disgust coloring his tone. He flipped through the papers casually. The duality of his life disturbed him – an Auror at the Ministry by day, a Death Eater by night. Looking at Bellatrix Lestrange, he wondered if he would ever have that kind of fervor for the Dark Lord's mission. He already knew that answer to that. A Death Eater with a disgust for Greyback – an oxymoron if he ever saw one.

"Look, Malfoy," Hermione addressed Draco wearily. "If we're going to work together on this Greyback case, we might as well be civil to each other. I understand your…background, and I know we are polar opposites. But the perpetual condescending tone is royally buggering the hell out of me." Draco's confused eyes snapped up at her, but then he realized that she thought his tone of voice was aimed at her. Might as well let her keep thinking that.

"All right, Granger," He replied lightly with a slight mocking edge entering his voice. Hermione leveled a glare at him but said nothing. "What do you propose we do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, Leenhoff said Greyback was last sighted…here," Hermione pointed to a remote corner of England. "That was a few days ago, they might be anywhere in that region by now –."

"I know how to find him," Draco replied, supremely confident.

Hermione inhaled sharply through her nose. "Ok, I'll let you handle that, then. Do you have any ideas?"

"I have a few questions, actually," Draco replied lazily. He was leaning back in his chair and levitating a pen, making it rotate in midair nonchalantly.

"About the mission?" Hermione clarified, remembering Draco walking in on her and Ron arguing.

Draco smiled crookedly. "Not in particular, no."

Hermione tilted her head at him quizzically, wondering what on earth he would want to know that she would answer. "What, then?"

"What's going on between the bookworm and Weasel?" Draco drawled. He looked barely interested in her response, but his silver eyes betrayed him. The force of them scrutinizing Hermione made it hard for her to be coherent.

"That's my business," Hermione muttered, flustered. She could feel the blush crawling up her neck as she remembered Ronald's usual insensitivity. She had known that he had fancied her for ages, and they had even tried to be a couple seventh year in Hogwarts. Suffice to say it hadn't worked out to Ron's jealousy and his refusal to give up his post as king of Prat-dom. Their rows left Harry awkwardly in the middle, usually the mediator between the two. Hermione realized that the best thing for her and Ron was to remain friends. Yet, not even a week after Harry's funeral, Ron had decided to win her back. She wasn't sure who was irritating her the most at the moment – her best friend of 12 years or her nemesis.

"Weasel must have done something incredibly stupid to make you cry," Draco responded quietly.

"Look, I've had it, all right? First, Ron this whole day, bugging me to get coffee with him or drinks after work – and now, _you_. Why do you even _care_, Malfoy? I'm just a lowly _Mudblood_," Hermione hissed at him, her hand gripping her wand. "And don't pretend for even one _second_ that you belong here," Hermione's voice shook with anger, but was dangerously quiet at the same time. She drew closer to him and pressed her wand against his chest. "While others may be _gracious_ enough to overlook what you've done, _I_ have not forgotten. If you start playing mind games with me or try and sabotage this mission in anyway, so help me god, I will curse you into oblivion," She finished, breathing hard. Draco's eyes widened in alarm for a moment, but immediately smoothed over into a blank mask. His metallic eyes hardened into glass.

"Well, now that we've gotten that straightened out," Draco replied between clenched teeth and plucked her wand off of him. His tone completely belied his controlled expression. She watched him fight for control and realized how much her words had affected him. There was a massive pool of hurt that lurked behind the shards of silver. "I was trying to be civil, like you had suggested, Granger. Apparently, that plan backfired."

Hermione backed away from him and suddenly the fight went out of her. She slumped down in her chair and rested her head in her hand. "I'm sorry," She replied reflexively. "I've just had a rough week…"

"I realize that now," Most of the hardness had disappeared from Draco's voice. "So when are we set to leave?"

"Tomorrow," Hermione replied faintly. Draco saw the lines of exhaustion on her face. It gave him a sick sense of satisfaction after all she had said to him. What gave her the right to pass judgment on him? She had no idea who he was. Despite her public image, Draco knew she wasn't as pristine as she made herself out to be.

"Tomorrow," Draco echoed. "What time?"

"We're supposed to come to work at the normal time; Mr. Leenhoff will inform us of when we are leaving in the morning. He said to pack for at least two to three weeks." Hermione's face seemed more drawn then ever when she closed her eyes and Draco saw her protruding cheekbones cut through her face.

"All right," Draco replied softly, seeing glimmers of himself in his sixth year in Hermione. Weasel was definitely taking a toll on Hermione. She looked as though she was having the life sucked out of her. Hermione kept her eyes closed but her lips curved up on a slight smile. She stayed like that for a while, the smile hovering around the edges of her lips. Draco immediately felt uncomfortable, as though he were intruding upon some sort of private routine Hermione had. Half of him wanted to use Occlumency and see what she was seeing, and half of him wanted to clear his throat to reawaken her to his presence. Since he was positive that the first option would result in a thorough hexing, he cleared his throat. Hermione's eyes flew open and to Draco's intense embarrassment, they were damp.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, rubbing her eyes absently. Draco nodded once and left his chair, gracefully striding out of the room. Hermione watched his retreating back and touched her hand to her face. Her wet fingers glistened in the dull light of the building.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Thanks for all the positive feedback for the last chapter! Haha, I also kind of love the Draco/Blaise bromance going on. It makes me happy._

**Chapter Five**

"I cannot believe Leenhoff paired you with that Mudblood Granger." Blaise had his long legs stretched out on top of the coffee table in front of him. His tie hung loose around his neck and his shirt was unbuttoned. There was a half eaten, soggy sandwich which vaguely stained the napkins pasted to his legs. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he twisted so he could see Draco's face.

Draco shrugged, taking a beer out of his fridge. Shrugging out of his coat, he placed it on the table and closed the refrigerator door. Unscrewing the top of the beer bottle, he flopped onto the sofa and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. "I don't know, maybe it's Leenhoff's way of making amends for our…history," Draco grimaced at the word, taking a long sip of cold drink. There was no better than to unwind after a rough day with a cold beer. This day was nothing compared to others he had had to endure and the problems were small enough that he could solve them by drinking a beer.

"Or maybe Leenhoff is just being a bloody moron, as always," Blaise replied flippantly. "Honestly, I don't even know how he became the chief of this project."

Draco shrugged, finishing his beer in one last gulp. "In a few months, all the imbeciles will be gone anyway. I just have to figure out this mission…" Draco's trailed off, frustrated.

"No luck with figuring out this uprising business?" Blaise asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"None," Draco admitted, running his fingers through his hair in a characteristic motion. "As much as I hate to admit it, they are _really_ good. The most I've found out about them is form old _Prophet_ articles from a couple years ago. They might have disbanded by this time, for all we know. I don't know how they have remained undetected by the Dark Lord until a couple weeks ago." Draco shook his head, bewildered. "I've managed to find out that the leader of this group, if that, works in the Ministry, though. So that's narrows it down a bit."

Blaise snorted, chewing on the last bit of his sandwich. "Oh yeah. You only have to investigate a couple thousand people at the Ministry, that's the easy part."

Draco rolled his eyes, but his expression darkened at the prospect of what seemed like an impossible mission. Broodingly, he spun the beer cap on the coffee table with his long, pale fingers until it was a silver blur against the wood. He knew Death Eaters comprised of most of the staff in the Ministry, but there were wizards and witches that still stood by the memory of Dumbledore and what he stood for. They were never outright when disapproving the activities of the Dark Lord – they created their own community in subtler, cleverer ways. Who would be clever enough to know how to stay hidden from the Dark Lord for all this time?

"It's Granger," Draco announced as the realization hit him. Blaise choked on his sandwich and began thumping his chest violently.

"You're not serious?" Blaise wheezed.

"_C'mon_ Blaise, don't you remember that bloody club they had at school? They kept it right under Umbridge's nose for almost the whole year. Granger, all the Weasels, Potter…they were all part of it. Would it surprise you if they took it to the next level?" Draco got up and started pacing. Blaise's curious eyes tracked his motion, but he remained silent. "And, as much as I hate to admit it, Granger has to be the cleverest witch of our age and the only witch that could pull this off."

"I suppose…" Blaise acquiesced reluctantly. "But, you'll need to find some sort of proof. If you're wrong, _he's_ not going to be pleased."

"I know, I know," Draco muttered under his breath, still pacing edgily around the living room. Letting out a groan of frustration, he added, "I'm supposed to leave for this Greyback mission _tomorrow_. How am I supposed to gather proof when I'm halfway across the country?"

"You could always pull a Snape," Blaise remarked. Draco whirled around, his metallic eyes narrowing into slits.

"What do you mean?" He growled, fighting to stay in control of his emotions. Blaise eyes widened in alarm; he hadn't predicted that he would have elicited such a strong response.

"Relax, mate," Blaise replied carefully. "I just meant that you could get into her good books and then try to get her to mention her little project."

"Oh," Draco's rigid posture deflated. "Yeah, I could do that. Maybe I'll get a few people to search her office when we're gone, too."

Blaise paused before he asked his next question. "Well, how much time do you have left?"

"I don't know," Draco muttered. "He never really says how much time we have. Considering the scope of the mission, I'm guessing maybe a couple months -."

"That's not what I meant," Blaise cut him off abruptly. His gaze hardened as he looked at his friend. "Don't treat me like some sort of imbecile, Draco. I've heard you waking up, retching your guts out -."

"Look, Blaise, that's normal. My father went through the same thing -."

"Don't tell me you _believe_ that rubbish," Blaise bit out. "Open your eyes, your father was expendable and so are you."

Draco inhaled sharply though his nose. "So, what are you saying, Blaise?"

"I'm not saying anything. I'm asking. Do you know how much time you have left?" Blaise's voice shook infinitesimally at the end of his sentence. His expression was set and his jaw was clenched. Draco studied his friend's face, mentally kicking himself for not realizing how perceptive Blaise could be.

"I don't know, all right?" Draco replied roughly. "No one does."

The two friends sat in silence, listening to sounds of the street under them. The silence seemed to push down oppressively in the small flat. Blaise looked as if there was nothing more that he would like to do than leave the flat, but he remained rooted to his seat. Draco sighed, rubbing his temples absently, wishing that this conversation could have been averted completely.

Blaise cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, you should probably get…packed."

Draco chuckled at his friend's attempt to steer the conversation back to the mundane. "Yeah, I probably should." He paused. "Look, I'm sorry –."

"Don't worry about it, mate," Blaise replied sincerely. "It's not like you have a solid answer about this, anyway. So, how long are you going to be gone?"

"A couple weeks," Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know how I'll deal with Granger for that long. Merlin, that woman knows how to get under your skin."

Blaise cocked an eyebrow at Draco and smirked. "She's really that bad? I thought the most trouble she would be giving you was talking your ear off about _Hogwarts: A History_."

"She hasn't done that…yet," Draco grinned at his friend. "We'll see, it's bound to come up sooner or later. It's a good thing there are Silencing Charms."

Blaise let out a hearty guffaw of laughter. "Dear lord, a stand-off between the Slytherin Prince and the Mudblood. It's too bad I won't be there to see it."

"The Slytherin Prince wins, obviously," Draco replied, a familiar arrogant smirk gracing his features.

"Ah, well, between you and me, Draco," Blaise paused, before adding with a huge grin, "I'm putting my money on the Mudblood."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The tangled scenery whisked past Hermione behind a smudged train window. She felt a smidge of melancholy twist her gut as she watched all the familiar sights fly by her. Hermione felt trapped next this alien man with silver eyes and platinum blonde hair, who sat stoically beside her. The two of them hadn't even attempted to hold a conversation. Hermione was too afraid of what she would unearth behind his composure – she couldn't forget the look he had given her when she had had her wand at his throat and berated him for who he was. His gaze cut to her core and made her feel infinitely small at the same time, like she had only seen a fraction of what he had been through – what haunted him. Hermione pressed her cheek against the cool glass and sighed. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen her fair share of things during the war and that fateful battle at Hogwarts during her seventh year. She still had nightmares where a green jet of light hit Harry straight in the chest. Hermione's throat constricted and she felt an invisible weight crush her chest. She took a ragged breath and willed herself not to cry. She had already cried in front of Malfoy once – there was no way she would try for twice. She closed her eyes and thought of simpler times so it would be easier to fall asleep.

Draco absently sketched random doodles in the pad on his lap. Several pairs of eyes stared back at him, as well as sinister tree branches interwoven in between the irises, through mouths and nostrils. His hand paused momentarily as he saw is eerie handiwork. It looked vaguely familiar, but try as he might, he couldn't remember where he saw it. Sighing, he dragged his pen across the paper, poking inky holes through the thin material. Frustration enveloped him as he crumpled the piece of paper in his large hands. It seemed that the only thing he was these days was inadequate. Hermione had made it perfectly clear that she deemed him inadequate for this mission, his own misgivings about _that_ mission made him feel inadequate, and Blaise's difficult line of questioning sure as hell made him feel inadequate. His life seemed to be made up of only difficult choices and questions he couldn't answer. As if the pressures of keeping up his double life weren't enough, his mother had decided that Draco should uphold the prestige of the Malfoy name and attend the random parties the upper elite of the Wizarding world enjoyed. Draco had managed to stall his attendance two weeks after his mission was over – he detested these gatherings. What would a man in his mid-twenties have to say to men in who were experiencing mid-life crisis or their sunset years? Draco glanced over at Granger and found that she was out cold. He smirked to himself and wondered how she managed to fall asleep so fast. Her face was so peaceful when she was sleeping; the contrast between a conscious Granger and an unconscious one was too obvious. Draco rubbed his left forearm absently and the Mark prickled malevolently under his long-sleeved black sweater. He would have to get in Granger's confidences somehow, and he doubted that a good old dose of "Malfoy charm" would be sufficient.

oOoOoOo

"Malfoy. Malfoy, you have to get up," Hermione prodded the sleeping man beside her, rubbing the sleep out of her own eyes. Their surroundings were almost pitch black outside the train and Hermione tried to inconspicuously wake up her sleeping foot. She jiggled it under the seat in front of her. The witch in front of her turned around and gave her a dirty look. Hermione muttered an apology under breath and then lightly socked Malfoy on the shoulder. "MALFOY!" She hissed. How was he sleeping how heavily? She only had gotten a couple hours of sleep because of the unpleasant lurches that punctuated the train ride. She felt her foot waking up and the unpleasant prickling feeling that shot up her nerves made her more irritated with the wizard next to her.

"Merlin, Granger, is it impossible for you to let people sleep?" Malfoy's voice was husky as he awoke and rubbed his eyes blearily. He immediately straightened up in his seat as he got his bearings, rubbing a large hand at the back of his head, scuffing up his already messy hair even more. Sighing he asked, "So, Leenhoff gave you the instructions, yes?"

Hermione lowered her voice, "Yes, I know what to do."

"Don't you always," Draco drawled, cracking his neck as he rotated his head in a circle. He summoned his pack and rested it on his shoulder before smirking sardonically at Hermione. "Shall we?" He gestured for her to go in front of him with mock formality and Hermione rolled her eyes at him. She got up and hobbled because of her foot that had, amazingly, fallen back asleep. Her face burned as she caught him biting his lip to keep from laughing. Her fingers itched for her wand – he could use a good dose of a Bat-Bogey Hex. Hermione adjusted her pack and walked quickly off the bus, painfully aware that she had to spend the next few weeks with a wizard that rubbed her the wrong way every time he got the chance.

The pair of them walked off the bus, engulfed by the darkness outside. They looked like shadowy ghosts against the backdrop. Hermione and Malfoy walked in silence through the forest for what seemed like hours but could only have been a few minutes. Hermione strode forward with blazing purpose and Draco glanced down at her, bemused. Her face was hard and determined and he noticed that she was so focused that he was surprised that she didn't spontaneously combust from her concentration. Hermione stopped abruptly and in front of a small wooden square on the forest floor. Draco cocked his head at her curiously as she took at her wand from her pocket. Her hand shook slightly as she pointed her wand at the block of wood on the floor. The wand vibrated in her grip and a white light started to form at the tip of her wand. The light shot up each side of the wand so that the whole thing was an illuminated, shaking blur. The light poured out off the wand and onto the wooden square and flowed over the square. The ground rumbled under Draco and his eyes snapped up at Hermione who looked unperturbed. The wood began shifting and molding into a new form as Draco watched with wide eyes. The trembling wood finally straightened out into an imposing house. He glanced at Hermione who seemed satisfied with her handiwork.

"If you don't mind me asking, Granger, what the bloody hell was that?" Draco asked, keeping his voice devoid from any emotion.

"_That_ is where we're going to be living for the next week weeks," Hermione replied, opening the door. She brushed the hair from her face and opened the door with a casual flick of her hand. "Mr. Leenhoff had set this up for us. The wood was just supposed to turn into a house, but I added a few more precautions of my own. We have protection from literally anybody who enters the forest – Muggles won't be able to see the house, maybe even a few wizards or witches; the house is undamaged by minor spell, but I don't know how it will fare against an attack. There's also more than enough food to last us our mission."

"You _do_ really know everything," Draco muttered grudgingly. Hermione smirked at him and disappeared into the house. Sighing, Draco walked in after her. The house was homely and comfortable. It seemed like a home that Hermione would like. He wandered around the house for a while, breathing in the scent of the wood and the light breeze coming through an opened window. It seemed surreal. If someone had told him that he would be on a mission and rooming with Hermione Granger in the middle of the woods, he would have said they had had too much Firewhisky. Yet, here he was. Draco ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, dropping his pack on the floor next to a sofa. He slowly sat down and stretched across it and kicked his shoes off. He closed his eyes and rested his head on this palms of his hands.

"Did you see your room? I didn't know if – oh," Hermione walked into the living room and stopped short at the sight of a reclining Draco Malfoy on the couch.

"My room?" Draco replied confusedly, straightening up. "I only saw yours…"

"It's right next to mine, I don't know how you missed it," Hermione replied exasperatedly. Draco rolled his eyes and got up. The tight muscles in his back screamed in protest.

"Lead the way, Granger," he said in a bored voice, picking up his pack. Hermione's eyes tightened, as though she suddenly remembered who she was standing in the room with.

"Of course," she replied. The two of them walked down a dim corridor and Hermione opened a plain wooden door for him. "Here's your room. My room's the next one over, after the joint bathroom."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "We have a joint bathroom?"

Hermione's mouth mashed into a straight line. "Well if it's too inconvenient for you to share a bathroom with a Muggle-born –."

"Granger, would you _please_ stop jumping down my throat every few minutes? The living arrangement is hard enough because you're _you_ and I'm _me_. So don't simply chalk this up to the fact that you're a Mud – Muggle-born. I've had a very long, very tiring past few days and as much as I would _love _to stand here and bicker all night about a joint bathroom, I'm going to bed because I'm exhausted," Draco finished, his steel eyes glinting peculiarly in the dim light. He slammed the door angrily behind him, leaving Hermione standing outside, wondering what exactly she had gotten into.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_"The Boy Who Lived," Voldemort sneered, his red pupils glinting menacing in the night air. "Coming to Lord Voldemort to _die_." A soft chuckle escaped his mouth as he twirled his wand casually in his hand. Hermione felt her heart hammer against her ribcage as Voldemort glided closer to Harry. "Such _courage_, Potter. It's a shame that it must go to waste." _

"No, no," Hermione murmured in her sleep, clenching her hands into fists. Her nails pressed painfully against her palms.

_A jet of green light shot out of the wand in Voldemort's hand and hit Harry squarely in the chest. His body was blasted up in the hair and hung gracefully suspended in the air for a second, before crashing to the ground sickeningly. Hermione felt to her knees, clutching her hair in her hands. Shaking, she felt the sobs and screams ripping out of her chest._

"No! NO! Harry, oh god, no. NO!" Hermione's screams were choked as hot tears ran down her face, thrashing in her bed. She rolled around her bed, desperate to hold onto anything for support. She felt two strong hands around her wrists. Panic-stricken, Hermione opened her eyes and saw two bright red pupils hovering a foot in front of her. "Murderer!" She screamed, struggling against his hold and kicking him straight to the chest.

"Granger! Merlin, what the hell is your bloody problem?" Came a panicked voice. Hermione's gaze snapped back to where the two red eyes had been, but only say a pair of silver ones. Her breath came out in fast gasp, but she stopped struggling against Draco's grip. He pulled a chair next to her and sat down, winded from her kick. He rubbed his chest with one hand, holding both of her wrists in one hand, and winced as he felt a bruise bloom.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione's voice was a brave attempt at being cold, but Draco saw a few spare tears hanging on her lashes and the nail imprints in her palms.

Draco sighed and warily let get of her hands and scooted backwards from her. He didn't want to get punched tonight as well as kicked. "I heard you screaming." The tone of his voice was unfathomable, but Hermione saw silver fire blaze in the darkness.

"I was…screaming?" Hermione's voice floated out to Draco, broken and faint. Pain twisted her features and she hung her head in her hands. "What did I say?"

"'No, Harry, murderer,'" Draco listed off in a detached voice, but his usually iridescent grey eyes darkened. Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth and a few orphan tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. Draco sat perfectly still until Hermione calmed herself down by taking deep breaths, but his hands were clenched on top of his thighs.

"I'm sorry I woke you, Malfoy," Hermione said quietly, not looking at him. "I should have warned you –."

"Forget it, Granger. As long as it doesn't happen again," Draco replied dismissively. He rose to get up.

"_Malfoy_. 'It' happens… a lot," Anger and sarcasm colored Hermione's tone. "Just don't tell anyone about…it." A small smirk graced her features for a moment. "And if you do…you know I'll find out."

Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his ruffled blonde hair. His expression was severe which wiped the smirk off of Hermione's face. His eyes were enigmatic as ever and Hermione found it frustrating that his expression never matched what he really felt. The tension was palpable in his body and in his stance. "We have to leave at six tomorrow morning. Get some sleep – wouldn't want you falling asleep on the mission, Granger." With that, he swiftly exited the Hermione's room, softly closing the door behind him. Draco stood outside Hermione's door and leaned his back against the wood. He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. He would never admit it, but he hated seeing anyone cry. He never knew what to do, especially not with Hermione. To say that he had felt uncomfortable as he watched her relive Harry's death would be the understatement of the century. Draco let out another long breath and walked to his room, lying down on his bed. A regal brown and black mottled owl flew in through the open window and dropped a letter on Draco's chest. Painfully, Draco sat up and rubbed his eyes. Who would be sending him a letter at this time? Yawning, he opened the envelope and recognized the handwriting immediately. Blaise.

_Draco,_

_I got Yaxley to pull some records on Granger. The most we found was that she checked out Time-Turners every week, but there isn't really a pattern to what days she took them out. I talked to Leenhoff and apparently she brought Time-Turners on the mission as well. If you're right, it looks like she's working on whatever business she's working on and this Greyback mission at the same time. That's all I've found out so far. You're right – they're really good. Will keep you posted. _

_I hope Granger hasn't hexed you yet._

_Blaise_

Draco smirked at his friend and rolled his eyes. Thank Merlin for the first piece of good news he had had for weeks. He would just have to find that bloody coin that Granger used 5th year. He would have to get her to trust him, somehow. From the way things were going, Draco wasn't sure how that was going to happen. Draco picked up his wand and flicked it once. A small flame ignited at the tip of it and Draco touched the flame to the paper. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes as he watched the letter burn in his hands.

oOoOoOoOo

Hermione and Draco walked silently through the woods, careful not snap twigs or step on leaves. They were both cloaked by Disillusionment Charms and blended perfectly with their environment. There were large paw marks in the ground every few feet and Hermione felt icy fear shoot through her veins. She was thankful that Draco couldn't see her expression as they progressed through the forest. As the forest became more tangled and harder to navigate, the two of them decided to remove their Disillusionment Charms so they would know where the other was. The ground was splotchy with dried blood and an occasional limb littered the forest floor. Hermione felt herself turning green and glanced at Draco to see how he was holding up. When they stumbled across an arm she saw him swallowing hard before looking away. It felt as though they had trekked through the forest for days, looking for any sign of Greyback, when it had only been a few hours. Exhaustion set it, when suddenly they heard a cry a few feet away from them. Hermione's eyes shot up to Draco and he cocked a brow at her.

"Sounds like a kid," Hermione whispered.

"Could be a trick," Draco muttered back, but his body shifted towards the sound.

Hermione rolled her eyes and made her way toward the sound. She heard an exasperated sigh behind her, but was relieved to know that Draco had followed her. The duo made their way through the branches and thorns when they stopped in front of a clearing. There was a small girl with wide brown eyes and curly black hair playing with something in her hands. She couldn't have been more than three or four. Hermione felt the bile rise in her throat. Draco's eyes widened as he saw what the child was playing with and was grateful that Hermione hadn't identified what it was. It would have probably sent her over the edge.

"Stay here," Draco said hoarsely. Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Draco clamped his hand over her mouth. "I mean it," He growled. Hermione closed her mouth and nodded, fearful of his sudden change in demeanor. She watched as Draco warily entered the clearing and walked towards the child slowly. Hermione forced herself to breathe easier while her chest constricted. Draco fluidly picked up the child and held her in his arms effortlessly. He was talking in a low voice to her, trying to convince her to leave her toy behind. Hermione squinted, but still couldn't see what the child was so attached to. Draco had managed pry the item out of the child's hands and the child showed every intention of crying. Hermione hastily shot a Silencing spell at the child while Draco pressed a long finger to lips and shook his head at the little girl. The girl bit her lip, but nodded her assent. Draco walked out of the clearing, still holding the girl, and his eyes were troubled. "Let's get out of here," He muttered darkly, not looking at Hermione.

"What was she holding?" Hermione asked softly, stroking the girl's curls.

Draco eyed her speculatively. His eyes were hard. "Her mother's finger."

Hermione swayed dangerously on her feet and Draco's eyes widened. He wrapped his arm around her waist and Apparated out of the forest and into their house before she could get sick on the forest floor. Hermione wrenched herself out of his grip and retched into the toilet, shaking violently. She heard Draco talking softy to the girl outside.

"Mama?" The little girl asked, puzzled. She held out her empty hands.

Draco felt pain shoot through his body as he saw the confusion the girl's eyes. He swallowed hard and forced himself to keep his voice level. "Mama's –." His voice shook and broke. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Mama's not coming home."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Why do you do it?"

Hermione's question flew out of her mouth as the little girl, Biddy, crawled around her lap and the sofa. Biddy had been growing more and more adventurous around the house and Hermione took extra precautions with safety when Biddy roamed around the perimeter of the property. Draco had refused to leave the three year old for extended periods of time when it was time for them to leave to hunt for Greyback, so Hermione had graciously let him borrow one of her Time – Turners to stay with Biddy. It was so unnerving to watch the same hands that had killed countless Ministry officials take care of a toddler so tirelessly. Hermione had often peeked at them from her room and marveled at the ease that Draco had around Biddy. Hermione wouldn't have expected this of any twenty-two year old man, let alone Draco Malfoy.

"Why do I do what?" Draco replied lazily. It was their day off and the sun was filtering through the windows persistently. Draco had his shirt unbuttoned, unable to get away from the afternoon heat. He toyed with the hem of his shirt, twisting the material around his finger and then untwisting it. The Dark Mark glittered dully in the bright light. Draco hadn't bothered covering it up for a couple days – he knew that it was useless to try and hide it around Hermione. Hermione often found it hard to look at him for too long when she saw the Dark Mark out. When she wasn't reminded that he was a Death Eater, it was easier for her to talk to him like a normal human being.

"I mean…you know. You've seen what Greyback is capable of doing." Hermione paused as she read the tension in his body. Taking a breath, the rest of her words came out in a rush. "Dumbledore offered you protection and it's not like you haven't gotten the opportunity to…rectify certain things."

Draco, who was lying down on the couch, sat up and leveled an incredulous glare at Hermione. "Let me make something perfectly clear to you, Granger. I am not, nor will I ever, condone what Greyback is doing. Do you honestly think I would have brought Biddy here if I approved of Greyback's actions?" Draco's tone was condescending and menacing at the same time. His glare rooted her to the spot and Hermione instantly regretted asking her question. He seemed to be fighting an internal war with himself, trying to find the right words to express himself. "I _know_ what it's like to – what I'm mean is – my father was subjected to the Dementor's Kiss and I had to watch him - my mother was tortured to death by the Dark Lord! So don't sit there, giving me this sanctimonious bullshit while you pass judgment on _me_. You don't even bloody know me, Granger," Draco took a deep shaking breath in and fought to control the emotions that raged through his body. His face hardened before he said his next words. "You don't understand. You see all of us the same – amoral killers, no better Greyback. You will never understand," Draco concluded bitterly, banging his fist against the material of the couch. "Tell me Granger, do you know what it feels like to disappoint the Dark Lord?"

"Bad?" Hermione joked weakly.

"He'll kill you, if you're lucky," Draco replied darkly. Resolve formed behind his eyes. "I'm not Bellatrix Lestrange. I do what I have to do in order to survive." His grey eyes darkened ominously. Hermione's eyes blazed indignantly as she surveyed the man in front of her.

"What about the rest of us? The people that stand up for what they believe in? People who try and change this administration of terror? We -." Hermione cut herself off, a stricken look crossing her face.

"'We'….?" Draco prompted her. If he could just keep her talking, she might let slip some sort of information.

Hermione's face closed off and clutched Biddy closer. Biddy squirmed uncomfortably in her grip. "I forgot who I was talking to." Hermione loosened her arms and Biddy ran towards Draco and plopped herself onto his stomach. Draco felt his frustration simmer under the surface, but kept his expression cool. Over the course of the past couple days, Draco had felt as if Hermione had let herself trust him a little bit, but it was purely out of necessity. She trusted him not to let Greyback rip her to pieces. They had gotten along as well as Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy could get along. A week was almost up and Draco still hadn't found any solid evidence that implicated Hermione. Judging from her reaction, Draco's theory was strengthened. Fortunately, the Dark Lord trusted Draco enough for him to get the job done, no matter how long it took.

"Fine," Irritation colored Draco's tone and he rested his head back on the couch cushions. Biddy contented herself in attempting to button his shirt up. Draco caught the little girl's hands in his own hands and muttered, "Biddy, it's too hot." He covered his eyes with his arm to protect him from the sunlight.

"I'm just trying to help you," Biddy said petulantly, struggling to free her hands. Draco smirked, but didn't relinquish his hold on her hands.

"Biddy, why don't you come here and help me make some lemonade?" Hermione asked, smiling slightly at the toddler. "We can give it to Mal – Draco because it's nice and cold. Maybe _then_ he'll finally button up." Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco when she saw his self-satisfied smirk as Biddy ran towards the kitchen. Hermione sighed and followed suit, making sure Biddy didn't trip on anything. Draco sighed and closed his eyes to doze off, but almost immediately awakened by a vehement _thwack_ from a pillow on his face.

Groaning with frustration, he exclaimed, "Merlin, Granger, would it _kill_ you to let me get some – oh, Biddy." Draco's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the toddler armed with a huge pillow and smiling hugely. Hermione stood a few feet away, smirking.

"She wouldn't start without you, so I told her to go wake you up," Hermione explained. There were still traces of hardness in her voice left over from their argument, but she seemed determined to push past that for Biddy.

"For the love of Merlin's most baggy Y -."

"Language!" Hermione reminded him, picking Biddy up and sighing. Draco ran his fingers through his hair, stretched, and reluctantly joined the girls in the kitchen. Buttoning up his shirt, he sauntered into the kitchen before realizing he had no clue how to make lemonade. There was a strange contraption on the counter which Biddy was using to squeeze the lemon. The seeds fell into the center while there was a bowl-shaped thing that collected all the pulp and juice. Hermione was cutting the lemons in half and handing the halves to Biddy to squeeze. Draco pulled up a chair and sat down, watching Hermione and Biddy work. "You can help, you know. I'm sure Biddy's hands are tired from squeezing all those lemons." Hermione's back was towards Draco, but he could hear her fighting back a smile. She knew that he had never made lemonade. Biddy turned around and grinned at him encouragingly.

"C'mon, it's fun!" Biddy chimed in, wiping her sticky fingers on herself.

"Biddy, no. Go wash up in the bathroom," Hermione leaned down and cleaned up the mess Biddy made on her clothes. Biddy sighed dramatically and flounced off in the direction of the bathroom.

"You know there's no way I'm doing that," Draco said flatly.

"Come over here and stop acting like a bloody four year old," Hermione replied exasperatedly. Draco muttered darkly, but go up anyway and took his post by the lemon squeezer. "It's easy, all you have to do is put the lemon on top of this roundish thing," Hermione demonstrated, pushing the juice out of the lemon, "and just make sure none of the juice gets in your eye." Draco eyed the contraption warily, but took a half of the lemon. He twisted the lemon on top of the contraption and soon enough juice poured out of the fruit. Hermione handed him another half when Draco was done with his half, and the two worked in silence for a while. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry about earlier –."

"Forget about it, Granger," Draco replied, albeit a little sharply.

"I had no right to – I mean, I didn't even know about you -."

"Granger, drop it. You didn't know. It wasn't like I gave you warning, either," Draco answered. He twisted a lemon with more vigor than necessary.

"My parents don't even know me," Hermione admitted. Her words hung in the air awkwardly. "I mean, during the war I Modified their memories to not know that they had had me, so if You-Know-Who ever caught them, they wouldn't know who or where I was. I mean, it's nothing compared to – what I'm trying to say is, I understand, to some extent."

Draco finished squeezing the last lemon slowly, digesting this information. "Thanks," He replied softly, not quite looking at her. The two of them were quiet until small arms wrapped around Draco's knees, making him lose his balance momentarily.

"Drake!" Biddy exclaimed, squeezing his knees tighter. Draco smiled and turned around, picking up Biddy in his arms. "I'm all clean, look!" Biddy proudly showed off her pristine hands.

"You did a wonderful job!" Draco replied, grinning at her. "Lucky for you, we have lemonade ready. Gran – We made it especially for you." Biddy clapped her hands excitedly. Hermione was prepared with a small plastic cup and a straw. Biddy sipped her lemonade contentedly as she watched her protectors pour themselves a glass as well.

"So any news about G-r-e-y-b-a-c-k?" Hermione asked, spelling out the name quickly. Biddy hated hearing the name Greyback and would often refuse to talk for days when she heard it.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Draco replied slowly, sipping his lemonade. "Just what we have been seeing in the forest. It's not unusual for him to keep a low profile, but it also usually means he's planning something."

"We'll have to stop him then, alert the Ministry," Hermione replied. Her usually warm brown eyes were remote and cold. She hated Greyback almost as much as Biddy did.

"We can't alert the Ministry _now_," Draco replied wearily. "We can't have a battalion of Aurors coming into a deserted forest. It would seem fishy."

"You're right," Hermione conceded. "We'll just have to figure out what he's doing."

"Can't be much different than what he already _is_ doing, other than having it on a bigger scale. There is a town not too far from here that would be the perfect target."

"Should we evacuate them? Or just put up protection spells around the town?" Hermione's brow furrowed.

Draco sighed. "I suppose protection spells wouldn't be a bad idea. But we can't get any of the Aurors here unless we're a hundred percent positive of what G-r-e-y-b-a-c-k is going to do."

Hermione opened her mouth as if she was going to argue, but thought better of it and muttered darkly. "Bloody Malfoy always having to be so bloody logical."

"Language," Draco drawled, an evil smirk spreading across his face as he caught sight of Hermione's incredulous expression.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thanks for all the alerts/reviews! I super appreciate them. Super appreciate? Haha, does that even work? I don't know. _

_On a more random note, I have to say I wouldn't be able to crank out these chapters without Lifehouse or The Script. Also, is Lifehouse a Christian band? Because I've seen a whole bunch of comments from really religious Christians on Youtube videos and such. I'm not Christian or anything, but I really love the music and the lyrics. _

_Also, does anyone have any requests that they want to happen between Hermione and Draco?_

**Chapter Nine**

Draco had a hard time placating his conscience as he sat on the edge of his bed, fingering a small gold coin in his hand. It looked like an ordinary Galleon, except for the face of the first Minister of Magic there was a date and time engraved on it. He passed the pad of his thumb against the scratches in the metal. It wasn't as if he had had to search Hermione's room extensively – he had found it within fifteen minutes in her sock drawer. It seemed too easy at first, and he had tapped the coin cautiously, waiting for some sort of hex to leap out at him. Nothing had happened, to his surprise. The pressure in the shower sputtered for a moment, making Draco jump as he waited for Hermione to come in and catch him holding her charmed Galleon. Thankfully, the water regained its normal flow and Draco let out a sigh of relief. Flipping the coin up in the air and catching it lithely back in his large palm; Draco hid it in one of the many boxes that littered his room. Sniffing his shirt, Draco wrinkled his nose. Another long grueling day in the forest had spoiled another one of shirts and littered his body with cuts and bruises. Sighing, he peeled off his shirt and pulled it over his head, wincing as he felt the bruises complained at the unwelcome action. Rotating his neck in a small circle, he stepped out of pants and walked into the joint bathroom in his boxers. Luckily, it was a large bathroom, so Draco didn't feel like he was invading Hermione's privacy. Unfortunately, the room was getting warmer by the minute and steam curled out from the shower. How long had she been in there? Draco shook his head exasperatedly and ruffled his hair nervously. He took his green toothbrush and began to meticulously brush his teeth, while stretching out his joints.

"_Desperado, why don't you come to your senses…?"_

Draco whirled around, looking for the source of the song. He wouldn't be surprised if Hermione had kept a radio with her as she showered. It would be one of the strange things that Hermione did.

"_You've been out riding fences, for so long now…"_

Draco raised his eyebrows as he located the source of the voice. He hadn't pegged Hermione for the shower-singing type, but here she was, belting out a ballad. A couple feet away, he saw Hermione's form shift behind the thin material of the shower curtain. He hastily looked away, feeling his face warm slightly. He finished brushing his teeth more vigorously than necessary and spit into the sink. It wasn't that he hadn't had his fair share of women. But seeing Hermione like this was weird, not to mention awkward. Her complete ignorance of his presence in the bathroom made it seem even more wrong, even though his intentions weren't bad. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair and sat down on the counter. He was justified in waiting his turn for the shower – it had been occupied for more than twenty bloody minutes. Without warning, the water turned off abruptly and Hermione summoned a towel to cover herself up before leaving the shower. Draco sat frozen on the counter, frantically calculating if there was enough time for him to duck out of the bathroom. Hermione wrapped herself in a towel inside the shower and shook out her hair contentedly. She stepped out of the shower and stopped short of the sight of Draco sitting on the counter in nothing but silk black boxers. The blood rushed to her face as she processed what was happening.

"M-Malfoy, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Hermione clutched the towel to her awkwardly. She hastily kicked away her undergarments from his view. "How long have you been in here?" Her voice shook indignantly, glaring at him.

"Granger, believe me, if I had wanted to see you naked, I would have by now," Draco drawled, but Hermione saw that he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Hermione was suddenly painfully aware of his state of undress as well as hers and began to blush for a completely different reason. Draco's curious gaze traced the blood rushing to her face and reflexively clenched his fingers around the edge of the counter. "I was just waiting to use the shower which has been occupied for the last twenty minutes. If you don't mind…" Draco slid off the counter and indicated that he was about to enter the shower. Hermione blushed even harder, but said nothing, collecting her clothes silently. She heard him coming up behind her, adjusting the heat of the water. He was so close that Hermione could feel the heat radiating off his bare skin and his natural smell – he smelled like his laundry detergent and the woods and sweat. The combination, no matter how strange, made her woozy. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen in the steamy room, Hermione didn't know. She whirled around quickly, desperate to get to her bedroom. The result wasn't good – she tripped over one of the bath carpets and fell onto Draco's torso. His hands shot out instinctively, steadying her. Hermione's eyes widened as she looked up at him, biting her lip. His grey eyes darkened, but not for an altogether bad reason. His gaze pierced her and Hermione felt her heart hammer against her ribcage. She felt the tension in his grip which was translated in his rigid stance. Suddenly, Hermione pulled away, muttering a quiet "thanks", almost falling over again in the attempt to get out of the bathroom. She looked back involuntarily and saw Draco running his fingers through his hair, his expression unfathomable, before closing the door behind her.

Hermione flopped down on her bed, still in her towel, and closed her eyes. It wasn't like she didn't know how he was with girls. Even in Hogwarts, his reputation preceded him. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil often gossiped about him behind their magazines or during breakfast in the Great Hall. From what Hermione had seen, she wouldn't be surprised if half the rumors were true. As Draco grew older, he became notorious as the playboy of the Wizarding world. The press obsessively catalogued every torrid affair and every voluptuous blonde broad he brought to the rare parties he attended. Hermione sighed, pulling the blankets to her chest. It seemed different now, the way he looked at her. They had grown up from their days at Hogwarts. They had begun to trust each other with this Greyback mission, especially since the arrival of Biddy. Hermione would even venture to call him a friend – almost. He seemed like less of a git….but he was a Death Eater! Merlin, he was a Death Eater. Stifling a groan of frustration, Hermione whacked her face with a pillow. He was off limits and she knew it. Unbidden, the image of Draco in nothing but those silk boxers popped into her mind and she gave herself another almighty _whack_ with the pillow. Sighing, she turned off the light in her room, determined not to think about Draco before going to bed.

oOoOoOoOo

The warm water soothed Draco's abrasions and bruises as it flowed over his body. Knots smoothed out in his back and his muscles began to relax. Suddenly, the image of Hermione's form behind the shower curtain slipped into his mind and Draco let out a frustrated breath. Irritably, he turned off the shower, slipped on his boxers, and walked into his own room. He crawled into bed, but couldn't fall asleep. Hermione kept popping into his thoughts inconveniently. Draco shook his head, as though trying to remove flies from his head. This was _Granger_. She was about as sexual as the Draught of the Living Dead. Something stirred deep inside Draco when Hermione had looked up at him in the bathroom. Good lord, what was she _doing_ to him? What happened to the busy haired, psychotic mess that had plagued him all throughout Hogwarts? He missed that Hermione – at least he could know for sure what the hell was happening. Despite the awkwardness, Draco couldn't deny one thing – whatever he was going through now, Hermione was going through the same thing. His memory flickered back to her wide eyes in the steamy room as he held her firmly. Her gaze was as mysterious as these new things were.

Draco rolled over on his side and let out a muffled groan into his pillow. This was a nightmare.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Breakfast was a quiet affair with Draco, Hermione, and Biddy eating French toast around the circular dining table. Draco and Hermione didn't speak much and were extra attentive to Biddy to delay the inevitable awkwardness that hung between them from last night. Draco would occasionally catch Hermione looking at him, but as soon as his gaze flickered up to her quizzically, she would immediately lower her gaze and blush. Draco mentally kicked himself for the umpteenth time for walking into the bathroom while she was showering. Biddy eyed the pair suspiciously as she chewed on her French toast.

"Biddy, you need to finish the last bit," Draco sighed exasperatedly, demonstrating by shoving a large piece of toast in his mouth and chewing exaggeratedly. Biddy crossed her arms and gave him a skeptical look. Draco ran his fingers through his hair and shot a desperate look at Hermione, who had been watching the affair with amusement. Taking pity on him, Hermione decided to take some action.

"Biddy," Hermione leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to the girl, "if you finish that last bit of French toast; I'll get Mister Malfoy here to sing 'Old McDonald' for you again." A large grin split Biddy's face and she proceeded to shove the toast into her mouth, all the while watching Draco with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Granger, what did you tell her?" Draco muttered under his breath, looking apprehensively at three year old in front of him.

Hermione fought back a smirk and replied, "You'll find out, Old McDonald."

Draco's jaw dropped in horror as he gazed at Hermione with wide eyes. "Please tell me you're joking." Hermione just smiled placidly as Biddy turned expectantly to Draco. Draco scuffed up his hair nervously. Sighing, he began, "_Old McDonald had a farm_ -." Suddenly, there was a sickening band outside the house and his spine stiffened and he turned towards the source of the noise. Another bang exploded outside the house. Draco swiftly got to his feet and Hermione quickly followed this action. "No, take Biddy, Granger. Stay – stay hidden." A peculiar expression twisted across Draco's face.

"Malfoy, do you think I'm going to just let you -?"

"_Hermione_. Please," Draco asked desperately. "_Please_ don't argue with me." The use of her proper name and his tone of voice had silenced whatever retort Hermione was about to bite out. Fear replaced defiance as she hastily scooped up Biddy and walked to her bedroom. Draco let out a momentary sigh of relief. He knew that she had protected her door with Anti – Intruder jinxes. Granger and her privacy – Draco shook his head. Yet, he didn't know how well they would hold up against whatever was out there. He feared the worst. Another explosion resounded outside and it seemed like the intruders were making some headway. Taking a breath to calm himself, he walked quickly to the front door and peeked through the peephole. Fear shot through his veins as he saw Greyback and a gaggle of Death Eaters blasting through the protective spells Hermione had put up. Straightening himself up and composing his expression, he opened the door casually. "Gentlemen."

"Ah _Mister_ Malfoy," Greyback sneered at him, sauntering towards Draco menacingly. "Would you mind calling your Ministry dogs off my tail? It makes my job so much more difficult."

"You know I can't do that, Greyback," Draco's eyes hardened as he appraised the leering form of Greyback. A growl erupted from Greyback's clenched teeth as he advanced upon Draco. He repelled him with a lazy flick of his wand, blasting in back a few feet.

"Draco Malfoy's gotten _soft_," Came the hissing whisper of Avery, eyes glinting from under his hood maliciously. "Needs so much _protection –_." Avery gestured to the protective bubble around the house, "from his friends." Fury marred Draco's features as he turned his icy glare on Avery.

"I'm getting the job done, Avery. I wouldn't expect you to understand the matters that the Dark Lord discusses with me." Draco flipped the gold coin into Avery's hand. "This is how the Mudblood meets with her group of Muggle-lovers and blood traitors. You can give that to the Dark Lord – take credit for all I care. He'll know you aren't bright enough to get evidence from the Mudblood anyway." Crossing his arms, he raised a pale brow at Avery's incredulous expression as he fingered the Galleon wonderingly.

"How do I know it's real?" Avery asked, eyeing Draco shrewdly.

"Honestly, how thick _are _you? Do you think I would submit false evidence to the Dark Lord?" Draco asked contemptuously, a familiar arrogant smirk gracing his features. "It would be better for all of you to clear out, or else the Mudblood will get suspicious."

"Afraid of a Mudblood," Avery snickered, shaking his head.

"I don't want to blow my cover, in case I can get something more valuable," Draco bristled at the older man. "If you don't mind…" Draco gestured for them to get lost.

"Not so fast, Draco," Greyback rasped. "I know you've got a child in there. She's _mine_."

"There are other children, Greyback," Avery replied condescendingly. "A whole town of them just a few miles from here. You'll get you fill." Greyback balefully glared at Draco, but turned his heel and Disapparated with the rest of the Death Eaters. Draco's expression didn't change as the trees rustled from the force of the departure of the Death Eaters. Trees were burned to the ground and pits scarred the charred ground. This part of the forest looked as though it had died. Emotion flickered across Draco's face as he saw a familiar finger strewn aside carelessly and the ground. Draco felt like something had punched him hard on the gut, but he refused to let down his guard. He flicked his wand at the finger and it disappeared. He didn't know what would have happened if Biddy saw that finger again. Unable to relax his stance, he walked back into the house and closed the door behind him.

"Drake!" Biddy burst out of Hermione's room, wrestling out of Hermione's grasp. Tears were streaming down her face as she hugged him around the knees. Robotically, Draco hugged the little girl loosely. Hermione's face looked haunted as she gazed at him.

"What did she see?" Draco asked hollowly.

"My room has a window," Hermione replied in a brittle voice. For a moment, Draco feared the worst and Hermione had seen through his cover. "All she could see was a whole bunch of Death Eaters levitating a woman in the air before discarding her in the woods and attacking the house. I made sure she couldn't see anything else after that." Biddy buried her face in the material of his pants and Draco felt her tears leak through. Draco didn't know what to feel as he digested this information. "Malfoy… are you all right?" Hermione's voice was touched with concern. He didn't deserve it.

"I'm fine," He replied in an unemotional voice. Biddy slowly released his knees and returned to Hermione's room.

"I'm sleepy," She mumbled on the way out. "Nap time."

"Biddy, do you want me or Hermione to stay with you?" Draco whispered, kneeling down to her height. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She looked much too old to be a three year old. She had changed. Hermione's eyes flickered up to Draco and then back down to Biddy.

"Sweetie, I'll come with you in a few minutes," Hermione kissed the girl's head and hugged her tightly. Biddy sagged against Hermione before curling under the covers of her bed. Getting up, Hermione turned her gaze on Draco. Draco had expected and angry, accusatory glare directed at him. He hadn't expected her brown eyes to be filled with tears. He hands trembled against the door handle as she shut the door behind Biddy. Soon enough her whole frame was wracked with silent sobs as she covered her face with her small palms. Instinctively, Draco walked towards her, but didn't know how to comfort her. Suddenly, Hermione wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his. Surprise froze Draco's body as he felt the shaking, warm form against him. Slowly he wound his long arms around her, hesitantly hugging her. Her face was buried in his collar and her tears stained his shirt. He pressed his fingertips against her back and stroked her hair with one hand. After a few minutes, Hermione's breathing steadied but she didn't release him. The two of them stood for a while like that, forgetting that they were Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Draco subconsciously hugged her a little closer when she didn't let go. Hermione sniffed and finally brought her face away from his shirt and gazed at him. Tears clung to her lashes as she watched his face. Draco was reminded of what had transpired between them yesterday night in the bathroom. He could feel her heart hammer against her ribcage and through the material of his thin shirt. Her expression was enigmatic as she bit her lip. "Thanks," She murmured huskily.

"You're welcome," Draco replied, brushing the hair out of her face softly. His grey eyes scanned her face.

"Well," Hermione sighed and cleared her throat, smiling sadly. Her hands relinquished their place from around his neck. Draco loosened his grip on her and his grey eyes flickered down to his feet. Her gaze trailed from his face to his soaked shirt. "Oh, I ruined your shirt!" Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth.

Draco let out a hard chuckle. "It's not a problem." His body twitched as if he wanted to hold her again, but Hermione stood her ground. Draco and Hermione stood a foot apart awkwardly for a minute. Suddenly, Hermione covered the space in between them with quick steps forward, placed her hands on his shoulders, and kissed Draco. He drew Hermione to him and trapped her in his steel grip, feeling her body pressed against his, her hands in his hair. He felt her mouth open against his and he forgot that they were on opposite sides of the spectrum. He was a boy and she was a girl and nothing else mattered.

But it mattered with them. It could never be that simple with Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. At last, reluctantly, Draco broke the kiss and when he opened his eyes he saw that Hermione still had hers closed. She touched her fingers to her lips and opened her eyes. Draco felt a jolt shoot down his spine and into his stomach when she locked eyes with him. He bent down so their foreheads were pressed together.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione asked, "So, do I still owe you a new shirt?"

Draco laughed quietly, brushing a stray tear off her cheek. "I'm pretty sure you're off the hook."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: OMG, finally! I have been waiting to write that scene in Ch. 10 since forever! I definitely wanted to write it earlier, but I felt like this was the perfect moment. I'm sorry if it was too fluffy; I tried/try my best to keep Hermione and Draco in character. I had such a hard time figuring out who would, y'know, instigate the kissing and I felt like it was more in Hermione's character to do it. Any thoughts? _

_ How much did you love that scene? I loved that scene. Not just because it's my story or whatever, but seriously – I love that scene. _

**Chapter Eleven**

"Draco?" Hermione poked her head out from her room. She had been rummaging around her sock drawer for fifteen minutes and still couldn't find the Galleon she had cast a Protean charm on. Panic fluttered in her chest. What if something had happened to the members of the D.A. while she had been gone? She shook that thought hastily out of her head. There was no point in suppositions. They were fine – they _had_ to be fine. "I'm missing a Galleon, have you seen it?" A note of panic entered her voice.

"A Galleon? I don't think so. Why, do you need money?" Draco's distracted voice came from his room. Hermione and Draco had started packing to return to the Ministry. Greyback hadn't attacked the small town, which was puzzling. Hermione thought Greyback wouldn't have been able to resist the lure of children, especially a town that was so defenseless.

Rolling her eyes at his response, Hermione replied, "_No_, I don't need money. It's just – that Galleon was important to me. Harry had given to me for good luck before he died," She invented wildly. There was a pause before Draco responded. Hermione winced at her lie – no doubt Draco would take that as some sort of indirect jibe at him.

"I haven't seen it, Hermione. Sorry," Draco's voice seemed tighter, but he was good at hiding the emotion – whatever he was feeling – in his voice.

"Maybe I didn't bring it with me," Hermione called back, knowing full well that she had kept the Galleon in her sock drawer. Maybe Biddy had taken it. Hermione would ask her later – Biddy hadn't been quite the same since she had witness the Death Eaters' cruelty towards her mother. She would still talk and laugh, but Hermione could see the pain in the girl's features. It hurt Hermione to see Biddy so broken. If it was hard on Hermione, it was worse on Draco. Sometimes Hermione saw the little girl's anguish mirrored on his face. "Are you finished packing?"

"Almost. Are you?"

"Well, yes, except for that damn Galleon," Hermione felt the panic choking her again, but refused to let it show. She wrung her hands together, weirdly grateful that Draco couldn't see her in this state.

"Do you want me to help you look?"

Hermione whirled around and saw that Draco held Biddy in his arms and was leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face. His pack hung jauntily on his back. The smirk grew into a grin as he saw Hermione blush under his gaze. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and continued her search for the Galleon.

"Why don't you just try a Summoning Charm?" Draco asked, exasperated with her nervous rummaging.

"Wouldn't work," Hermione explained shortly. "I put a charm on it that prevents people from summoning it."

"And they say you're not paranoid," Draco replied sarcastically, but he shifted minutely with Biddy in his arms. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but ignored that gesture. Draco had been doing odd things for the past couple days and Hermione had learned to disregard it. Greyback seemed like a more pressing worry at the time.

"Look, Hermione, it's not going to turn up here. You probably left it at home or at the Ministry," Draco sighed, putting Biddy down and scuffing up his ruffled hair. "We're supposed to catch our train in fifteen minutes and Biddy says she really wants to try the Chocolate Frogs."

Hermione sighed and abandoned her search. "You're probably right. Let's go." Hermione swung her pack over her shoulder and Disapparated with Draco to the train station. Behind them, the house melted back into the forest floor, making no sign that it ever existed. The three of them walked along the platform for a few minutes; Biddy was in the middle and swung from the hands of Draco and Hermione. The air was filled with playful banter and conversation. Draco transfigured a piece of paper into a butterfly which landed onto Biddy's nose before promptly flying away. Finally the trio boarded the train and Biddy's face split into a wide grin – the first one Hermione had seen in days. They found a compartment and Hermione sat down, leaning her face against the familiar window. It was a different feeling going home. It felt like a return to the real world in many ways, despite the harsh reality of Greyback's brutality displayed in the forest. Biddy curled her small fingers around Hermione's hand as well as Draco's hand. Tears pricked Hermione's eyes for mysterious reasons and she squeezed Biddy's hand.

"Are we there yet?" Biddy's asked exasperatedly, leaning her cheek against Draco.

"Bid, it's been ten minutes," Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "We're getting there in a few hours." A small frown furrowed Biddy's brow.

"That's a long time," she pouted.

Draco's eyes flickered to Hermione who was smiling at the two of them. "Yes, yes it is," he responded quietly.

"Did it take you a few hours to marry 'Mione?" Biddy asked innocently. Draco choked on his spit and thumped himself on the chest. Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered _Anapneo_, waiting for his choking spell to pass.

"Marry…Hermione…?" Draco wheezed, still rubbing his chest with his free hand. Biddy nodded, confused by his reaction.

"Isn't that why you're nice to her now?" Biddy pried.

Hermione decided to have mercy upon him. "No, sweetheart. We're just friends. You and Draco are nice to each other and you aren't married, right?"

"I suppose," Biddy agreed grumpily. Hermione ruffled her hair affectionately. _Just friends_. That phrase had Hermione chewing on the inside of her cheek uneasily. She looked at Draco and he was passed out on the seat as usual. He probably hadn't gotten much sleep on the mission. What were they? She didn't even know if she really fancied him – the kiss could have just been a desperate reaction to their circumstances. After all, it was she who had instigated it; she didn't even know if he felt the same way. Maybe he just kissed her back because he felt bad for her. He took pity on her in her broken state. Hermione rubbed her temples in consternation. Thinking about this was making her feel sick. Hermione leaned against the cool glass once again and willed herself to fall asleep.

The forms of ghost-like Death Eaters appeared in the woods outside of the train, but disappeared as quickly as they appeared. Draco woke up with a start as he felt the Dark Mark burn insistently against his skin.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_Sorry for the really long delay! I've been really busy this summer, getting ready for college and just spending time with friends. Enjoy!_

Draco woke with a start, eyes watering slightly from the burning sensation on his left forearm. Dread began seeping into his very core as he cast a glance at the forms of Hermione and Biddy. Without thinking, he staggered towards the conductor. The Dark Mark burned more insistently against his skin, the pain making him almost woozy. The scene swayed dangerously in front of him.

"Draco?" Hermione's voice seemed to be coming from a great distance. Draco waved her off with one arm as he approached the conductor.

"Excuse me, sir," Draco fought to control is voice. "I need to get off immediately."

"I'm sorry, son. I can't just stop the train for one per – "The conductor stifled a gasp as he felt the tip of Draco's wand press against his ribs.

"Couldn't you make one exception? I'm asking nicely," Draco replied sardonically, a hint of a sneer gracing his features. Hands shaking, the conductor stopped the train.

"What is going on here?" Hermione walked towards the conductor and Draco. Draco mentally groaned as he saw her. He _really_ didn't want to curse her, but the throbbing on his left arm made that idea very tempting.

"Nothing, just go back to your seat," Draco replied stiffly, swiftly turning away to exit from the doors. Hermione grabbed edge of his sleeve. "Granger, if you know what's best for you, you'll let me go."

"You're just going to leave without explaining anything to me? Or Biddy?" Hermione's voice cracked. "You know how much she loves you." Draco turned his icy glare on Hermione, feeling rage and despair burn beneath his ribcage. She didn't understand. She would never understand.

Draco gripped her wrists hard and drew her towards him, fury still pounding through his veins. "If you don't leave in the next minute, so help me, I will curse you."

Hermione's face hardened and thrust her chin out. "Tortured by your aunt, cursed by you. I'm used to abuse by the Malfoy's. Do it, then," She hissed, seething. Draco's grip on her wrists tightened painfully, when he shoved her away from him and swiftly left the bus. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Draco disappeared in a sharp _crack_.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The bus creaked to a stop in front of the decrepit pay phone, and Hermione wearily brought Biddy out onto the street. Hermione didn't say anything as she robotically turned dialed the numbers on the pay phone and the two of them shot down to her floor at the Ministry of Magic.

"'Mione, where are we?" Biddy asked quietly. She sensed Hermione's mood and wasn't about to bring up more important topics.

"This is where I work, the Ministry of Magic," Hermione replied, clutching the little girl's hand as they made their way through the sea of people.

"Is it always like this?" Biddy asked, narrowly missing a short, balding man bumping into her.

"Most of the time," Hermione admitted. "It's a busy place; we've got to catch the bad guys."

"The bad guys? Like the people that were trying to get into the house?" Biddy asked her brow furrowing.

Hermione opened her mouth and the closed it again, before replying. "Yes, like them." _And Draco. _Hastily, she pushed that thought out of her head, but it stealthily crept back in at regular intervals. Hermione finally walked into her office. She felt uneasy working behind a desk again – her field work was her true passion. Her desk was orderly and she remembered with a pang who had cleaned it for her, claiming he couldn't think with her clutter. Hermione sat down on the chair wearily and pulled Biddy onto her lap, taking in her clean little girl scent. Biddy sensed her pensive mood and drew very still on Hermione's lap, playing with her fingers every now and again. Hermione leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. Ahh, sweet relaxation. Despite the claustrophobia of being cramped behind a desk for the next few months, it felt nice to not have to worry about her life being in mortal danger every day.

After a few moments, the silence was broken. "Are they going to take me away from you?" Biddy asked nervously.

"We don't have to worry about the bad people anymore, Bid."

"I meant these Ministry people." Biddy's eyes turned solemn as she shifted to look at Hermione.

"Shhh, of course not," Hermione soothed her. "Why would you think that? I just have to talk to my boss and we'll sort everything out, sweetheart."

With her doubts assuaged, Biddy rested her head against Hermione's shoulder and sighed contentedly. Hermione, on the other hand, was put on edge. Biddy's question nagged her and refused to leave her mind. Shaking her head, Hermione calmed herself with the thought that the Ministry had no real reason to take Biddy away from her. Then again, how much faith could she put in the Ministry?

oOoOoOoOoOo

Ron stood awkwardly at the front of the assembly of thirty people. Hermione was late. Hermione was never later. Where was she? She, of all people, should be able to understand how important this was. The room was illuminated by a few lights glimmering dimly in the darkness. Shadows were cast across people's gaunt faces. The light briefly brought Luna's and Neville's faces, which gave Ron the stones the start the meeting.

"Hello everyone," Ron's voice cracked. Clearing his throat, he ploughed on. "We haven't had a meeting in a while. It only seems prudent now that we reconvene, since – since Harry's…death." The last phrase hovered in the air and made Ron feel claustrophobic. Doggedly, he continued speaking. "Voldemort was gained too much power over the past few months. We got close to defeating him once, we can finish the job the second time. According to Brandock here" – the short, stumpy wizard from the Ministry stood up and waved – "Voldemort has made new Horcruxes. Of course they were more quickly made than the ones we had destroyed a couple years ago, so they will be less difficult to get rid of this time around. Of course, Voldemort has them more craftily hidden, but we're still looking for the same criteria. He hides the bits of his soul in his trophies." Ron paused and saw the desire for revenge burn in his friends' eyes. Awkwardly, he added, "I'm sorry that Hermione couldn't be here. She must be exhausted from her mission from the Ministry. I'm sure she'll come next time."

"It's not like Hermione to miss a D.A. meeting…" Neville replied, confused. "But, sounds like a solid plan, Ron."

"We'll probably need someone to infiltrate Voldemort's ranks," Ginny added, her red hair gleaming in the dull light. Her face was hard and her gaze dared anyone to prove her wrong.

"Well, that's all well and good," Lee Jordan said dryly. "But, why don't we discuss this over dinner? I'm starving and I smell Lavender Brown's legendary chicken pot pie cooking in the kitchen."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Draco didn't even have time to rush to the bathroom this time. As soon as he Apparated back into his flat, he grabbed a large silver mixing bowl from the kitchen and emptied out the contents of his stomach violently. Shaking, he rinsed the mixing bowl out and tried to make his apartment smell less like puke. The smell didn't go away even after he sprayed air freshener – it just smelled like puke trying to be covered by air freshener. Draco was much too exhausted to even attempt to magic the smell out of the room. He felt like his very bones hurt. Everything hurt.

_Oh please. It's not like you don't deserve it._

This little voice in his head was getting thoroughly irritating. _Shut up._

_You can ignore me all you like. It still doesn't change the truth. It doesn't change what you are. A killer._

Draco effectively shut out the little voice in his head and headed to his room to change. He shrugged out of his dark robe, loosened his tie, and pulled off his white shirt. He would have to get it washed, it was drenched in sweat and bile and blood. Suddenly, Draco's hasty motions froze. He drew closer to his mirror and he felt sweat break out across his body. It was there…he could barely make it out, but it was there, in the dent between the muscles of his chest. Spidery dark lines extended under his skin like venom. Draco pressed his finger against the dark spot that the lines originated from and felt like he was pressing down on particularly nasty bruise. It was as if he were rotting from the inside out. The lines stopped just below his collar bone. Sighing, he pulled on a black t-shirt over his head. He didn't know how much more his body could take of this constant invisible beating. Tugging basketball shorts over his boxers, he went outside into the living room. He paced around the room, when he finally picked up his cell phone and dialed a number, furtively checking outside the window to see if Blaise was outside the apartment.

"Hello?" Came the sleepy answer.

"Hi," Draco swallowed hard. He wasn't sure if he should just pretend their last encounter hadn't happened or apologize. "Look, I – I need help with something."

"What the hell do you need help with at three in the morning?"

"I can't tell you over the phone," snapped Draco.

There was a pause. "Go ask your Death Eater buddies to help you. They're so great that you had to abandon us on the train." Ah, sarcasm. Effective even when half asleep.

"It wasn't my choice," Draco growled into the phone. "Forget I even called," He muttered about to hang up, when he heard her voice again on the other line.

"Wait, wait, ok, I'll help you. I'm just exhausted because I spent the last two hours trying to get Biddy to go to sleep." There was a pause. "You're not enlisting my help to kill a Muggle are you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'll be there in five minutes."


	13. Chapter 13

_Woohoo! Next chapter _

**Chapter Thirteen**

Hermione hung up the phone; her mind was still hazy at this and Draco never, ever, ever asked for help. She raked her small hand through her mane of hair and paced around her flat nervously. He had threatened her at wand-point the last time they shared the same space – he couldn't be trusted. The rational side of her brain emphatically agreed, while her heart sped up with the anticipation of seeing him. _Unhealthy_, she thought to herself, _this is unhealthy, Hermione Granger_. Her mind flashed to the memory of his lips covering hers which caused Hermione to suck in her cheeks sharply. This was not helping her already pounding heart. A resounding _crack_ echoed through her apartment and Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. Draco stood only a couple feet from her, looking more drawn and haggard than before. She noticed he winced a little as he walked deliberately to one of her chairs and sat down. He was trying not to startle her again.

"Hermione," Draco greeted her. His voice was familiar but remote at the same time. It stung to be treated as a stranger. She came down and sat in the seat across from him. "I have a… problem." He paused suddenly. "Biddy's -?"

"She's sound asleep in my room, but we'll have to be quiet," Hermione replied quietly.

Draco nodded. His mouth was twitching and his expression was strained as though he was thinking of the best way to phrase something. "I'm hurt," He said bluntly. Hermione stared at him in outrage.

"Excuse me? Did _I _threaten you with my wand and disappear without explaining where I was going?" She hissed.

"No, I meant literally, not emotionally," Draco swiftly peeled off his shirt before Hermione could protest. She could feel the color in her cheeks as she took in the musculature of his defined torso, but she also saw the dark bruises that littered his upper body as well as the thin, black, spidery lines that radiated from the center of his chest. The bruises didn't stop where the waistband of his sweatpants began; Hermione thanked Merlin that she couldn't see anything else. "My problem," Draco gestured to himself, his expression almost sheepish. It seemed as though he wanted to say something more, but he clamped his mouth shut. Hermione cocked her head at him, but shook her head. He wouldn't tell her what was eating at him and she was too emotionally exhausted to argue with him tonight. "I was never good at healing spells," Draco elaborated stiffly.

"Why didn't you just go to St. Mungo's?" Hermione asked distractedly, pressing her fingertips against his injuries. Draco let out a low hiss, but permitted her to continue her examination. Hermione's hands drifted up to his chest, when Draco grabbed them in a panic.

"Do _not_ touch it," He growled at her through his teeth.

"How am I supposed to help you if you won't let me?" Hermione shot back, fighting to keep her temper. She tried to wrench her fingers from his grasp. His grip was steel.

"_This_ is why I can't go to St. Mungo's. They know what it is – what I am," Draco crushed Hermione's hand in his cruelly briefly before letting her go.

Taking in a shaky breath, Hermione replied shortly, "Fine. Fine. I have some ointment in the bathroom; the bruises should heal in a few days."

Draco scoffed at her. "These aren't ordinary bruises. Honestly, are you trying to be thick, Granger?"

Hermione clenched her hands into fists, ignoring the dull throb of pain from her crushed hand. "If you want my help, you're going to at least be civil." She felt as if they were back in Hogwarts and Draco was tossing the word "Mudblood" at her every chance he got. He didn't have to say it now, but she could tell that that's what he really thought of her. It would be the epitome of Draco's idea of a joke – make the Mudblood think he cared about her and then pull the rug out from underneath her at the last minute. He was probably on his way to a Death Eater party now to talk about how he had a Muggle-born waiting on him just for a few bruises.

"You have to take the magic out of them," Draco explained softly. There was a dark silver flame burning in his eyes. "Dark magic…" His voice trailed off and a brief look of anguish passed over his face. Hermione felt a jolt in her stomach when she saw the look on his face.

"That's not exactly my specialty," Hermione answered, her voice shook at the last syllable. She cleared her throat. "But I'll do my best." Draco said nothing but clenched his jaw tightly. Hermione took out her wand and pressed the tip of it to one of his bruises. Draco did his best to repress it, but a shudder of pain rippled through is body. The bruise disappeared slowly, painfully; while Hermione's pale face grew whiter with each bruise that she erased. She didn't how long she had stood there with her wand out, watching Draco's stoic face as his body shook with pain. She worked quietly, secretly wondering what he was thinking. His expression betrayed nothing; he refused to even make eye contact with her, rigidly staring forward at nothing in particular. Hermione sighed as she pressed the tip of her wand against the last of his bruises. Even her wand seemed exhausted. She tried to downplay the fact that she had only done this once for someone before, and his injuries weren't nearly as grave or deep as Draco's wounds. Harry's body littered with scars and bruises laying on the floor burst into Hermione's mind. Hermione gasped for breath, ragged inhales and exhales escaped through her mouth. Draco's steel eyes snapped down to her, but Hermione didn't notice. She pressed her wand a little more insistently against Draco's chest, trying to steady her hand. She could remember that day as if it had happened yesterday – Harry looked as though he had been attacked and abused beyond all reason. He had told her and Ron to say their hiding place and not to follow him. She remembered what he said about the bruises and scars.

"Hermione," Draco's voice was urgent and he yanked her wand away from his chest. It was the first time Hermione heard genuine emotion in his voice since he arrived. Hermione's brown eyes gazed at him in confusion. She glanced at his torso and realized her wand was sparking and she had burned him.

"Sorry," She muttered, waiting for the sparks to extinguish and then tucking her wand in her pocket.

Draco hissed slightly through his teeth as he tried to move the spot where he was burned, but shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry about it," he replied, pulling his shirt on gingerly and buttoning it up.

"You're not going to tell me who's doing this to you, are you?" Hermione asked morosely.

"Who says it's a person?" Draco replied through clenched teeth, finishing up the last button.

Frustration bubbled to the surface as Hermione's hands curled into fists by her sides. "_Why_ are you doing this to me?"

Cold winter eyes meet desperate brown ones. "Doing what?" Draco asked, his expression rigid.

"You bloody well know what," Hermione spat, trembling with anger. "All I do is try and help you, and all I get in return is you throwing that favor back in my face. You're unbelievable! One moment you're fine, _we're_ fine, the next moment you're threatening to curse me or you turn into a distant ice queen! Pick a personality, for Merlin's sake."

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but Draco said nothing. His expression was formal and stiff as he surveyed the furious witch in front of him. "This isn't good for either of us, and you know it." He words were clipped as he stood up swiftly from his chair.

Hermione took a step nearer to Draco and felt a hurricane of emotion twist across her face. Staring at his placid face made her wanted to swallow her words, but she knew she had to say what was on her mind. "We kissed and you don't even want to talk about it," She whispered.

"It didn't mean anything, so there's nothing to talk about," Draco replied, averting his eyes from her face. "Don't make this more difficult than it already is, Hermione," He muttered, life finally infusing his emotionless eyes as his gaze snapped back to her.

"You're lying," Hermione replied, her voice shaking. What it lacked in strength it made up for in conviction.

"Prove it," Draco challenged, feeling a familiar smirk curl his lips. Hermione took yet another step closer to him and Draco felt his heart skid around in his ribcage. Her face was merely inches away from his. He hadn't expected her to be so close…

Hermione cocked her head back to look at him, but her eyes still held the intensity of her emotions. "Are you trying to tell me you feel nothing right now?"

Draco swallowed hard. This wasn't going according to plan. "Nothing," He echoed.

"Liar," Hermione repeated, shaking her head and half-smiling. She took a half step back.

"That didn't prove anything," Draco reminded her.

"Oh it didn't? You look at me differently when I'm that close. It's a hungry look. It scares you," Hermione paused. "It scares me."

"Nice to know you're sane. Most normal people would be terrified of a Death Eater," Draco replied dryly.

"That's not all you are," Hermione replied, frustration clear in her expression. Instinctively, she took a step back to get a better look at him. His face had closed off almost completely but the color is his grey eyes darkened. With one last cold appraising look at Hermione, Draco disappeared with a _crack_.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Hermione!" A familiar gangly figure strode towards the witch as she looked up from the pile of papers on her desk. A grin cracked Ron's face and Hermione's face responded in a smile as she stood up to greet her best friend. Ron scooped Hermione up in a bear hug, twirled her around and put her down enthusiastically. "I'm glad you're back. We missed you."

"I missed you too," Hermione replied, an involuntary smile spreading across her face once more. She missed the easy friendship she had with Ron. The stress of dealing with Draco had made her forget what it was like to be with a real friend. "How have things been around here?"

Ron's expression darkened as he surveyed Hermione's face. "You haven't heard about Luna?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed concernedly. "What about Luna?"

"We'll discuss it later tonight," Ron muttered, glancing around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "'Mione, you're coming tonight, right?"

"What's tonight?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Hermione! You can't forget things like this. I know you're tired from the mission with Malfoy, but this is important too."

"Oh! Ooohh, sorry, Ron," Hermione replied, comprehension dawning on her. "Truly, I am." She paused and beckoned Ron to lean down. She put her lips to his ear and said, "My Galleon…I don't know what happened to it. I took it with me when I left to hunt Greyback, but when I was packing I couldn't find it. I've literally searched my entire desk here and at my flat. I can't find it anywhere."

"Do you think it was taken?" Ron muttered, clenching his fists.

"Possibly," Hermione admitted to Ron as well as herself. "Let's not jump to any conclusions. For now, just send me a Patronus for before it starts and I'll be there."

Ron nodded stiffly and exhaled slowly, trying to release the tension from his posture. "Why don't you just come to my place after work and I can fill you in on everything that's been happening? It will be easier to coordinate that way, too."

Hermione hesitated for a brief moment. Her eyes flicked up his face and then down at her hand cautiously. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ron, but him asking her to get drinks after work before her mission hadn't been completely erased from her memory. "Erm… I suppose so."

"Great!" Ron smiled down at her. He didn't seem to have some sort of ulterior motive to pounce on her when she was most vulnerable. He genuinely seemed like he wanted to help. "Well, I have to catch up on my paper work and do some research. Apparently, there have been a string of deaths in the Muggle world having something to do with our world. I'm trying to keep the project under wraps so it won't fall into the wrong hands. Obviously, this is far from the safest place to solve something like this, but…" Ron's voice trailed off, shaking his head. "Never mind. I'll see you later," Ron added, dropping a kiss on her cheek. Ron turned his heel and strode off towards his cubicle. Hermione pressed her palm against her cheek, slightly disoriented and thoroughly surprised. It wasn't like Ron to be so familiar with her, especially at work. But he wasn't acting like he usually did around her – that sick puppy-dog look he gave her every time she turned him down. Maybe he was beginning to accept the fact that they could just be friends. Smiling to herself, she sat back down at her desk and attempted to finish the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated in her absence. Running a hand through her untamed hair, Hermione began writing her case report and tried not to dwell on the memories she had there. The facts helped chop that experience into neat squares and tuck them away in the dark corners of her mind. Her thoughts flitted back to Biddy and Hermione hoped that the new babysitter was doing all right with her. She had never left Biddy with anyone else other than…no, she wasn't thinking about him. Not after what he did. Not after the way he treated her. Her face flushed angrily as she crossed a "t" viciously, almost ripping a hole in the paper. As if on cue, he walked past her desk, barely gracing her with a glance. Hermione watched him go, feeling a familiar pang of hurt which she quickly repressed. He had made it painfully clear the night before that nothing was going to happen, that it wasn't good for either of them. She had to admit he was right, but the words seemed wrong coming from his mouth.

"Draco!" Blaise's voice rang out form the hustle and bustle, rooting Draco to his spot only a few feet away from Hermione.

"Blaise," Draco greeted. Hermione could tell that he was smiling, albeit a tired one. Why was it that he always seemed tired or stretched thin? Hermione knew the answer to that question before it popped into her head.

"Where were you last night? You came in later than I thought you would."

"I was just taking care of some things," Draco paused and rubbed his left arm absently. "Thanks for your help, mate. The information you sent ended up being priceless." Great, so he could thank Blaise _Zabini_ and not her?

"No problem," Blaise replied easily. "Did…did he say what he was going to do with it?"

"I don't even know if he's gotten yet. I gave it to Yaxley to take care of. I couldn't leave, I had to stay with Granger."

Hermione's quill stuttered and scratched against the parchment, but she doggedly continued writing her case report. What were they talking about? Hermione had a creeping feeling that she knew what it was, but she wanted to listen to their conversation before she could draw any conclusions.

"Ah, so did the Mudblood beat the Slytherin Prince dueling?" Hermione didn't have to turn around to see the immense smirk on Blaise's face.

"No, not this time. Unfortunately, I'll have to take your money from you."

Blaise shoved Draco playfully and, suddenly, Hermione was in Hogwarts again. Thankfully, her preoccupation with their conversation didn't interfere with her casework which had become second nature to her.

"I'll see you at the flat, then?" Draco asked as he drifted away from Blaise.

"Mmmm, maybe not. I'm going out with Marie again tonight."

"Thought you already shagged her," Draco replied, grinning evilly.

"Well, at least I'm getting some. Your knickers out of a twist yet?"

Draco ignored the last comment. "Wow, Blaise. How long has it been, five weeks? That must be a record for you."

"You're one to talk," Blaise snorted. "You and Melissa didn't last three weeks."

"Well, that was because she turned out to be psychotic and clingy. I only wanted to get in her pants."

Hermione purposely tuned out the rest of the conversation, taking extra care to not screw up the facts and make sure her handwriting was impeccable. Thankfully, the meticulousness distracted from the emotions so close to the surface nowadays.

oOoOoOoOo

Hermione knocked on Ron's door and, when the door opened, she was greeted by his smiling face. Her face relaxed into a smile and she let herself into his apartment. It reminded her of the Burrow. The coziness made all her inhibitions disappear. Suddenly, Ginny popped out from the kitchen and ran over to hug Hermione.

"Hermione!" Ginny squealed, squeezing Hermione. "How are you? Do you need be to hex the Ferret git for you? Was he absolutely horrible? I bet he was. I'm so sorry you didn't catch Greyback –."

"Ginny, it's great to see you too," Hermione interrupted, laughing. "And, no, don't hex the git for me. Actually, there is something I've been meaning to tell the both of you."

"What is it?" Ron asked, pulling up a chair for Hermione to sit down in.

"I actually rescued a little girl, Biddy, from Greyback. Her mother had been murdered and Malfoy and I found her alone in a clearing. She lived with us in the house and now she's living with me in my flat."

"Wow," Ginny muttered. "Is she all right? I mean, after what…what happened to her?"

Hermione swallowed thickly. "She's getting better."

"That's a really brave thing you did, 'Mione," Ron said quietly, rubbing her back. Hermione relaxed and leaned into him a little.

"Thanks, Ron." Hermione caught a hint of a smirk on Ginny's face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "So, what happened to Luna…?" Hermione felt Ron stiffen behind her and Ginny's expression darkened.

"Sam's being interrogated," Ron replied gruffly. Sam Bennett and Luna had met each other right after she took over the publication of _The Quibbler_. Sam was practical and down-to-earth, while Luna was dream-like and ethereal. Everyone knew they were perfect for each other before Luna and Sam did. They had been together for a good two years now.

Hermione felt a little light-headed. "What?"

"Thicknesse told Luna a week ago," Ginny added sadly. "She's strong, that Luna. She didn't give Thicknesse the satisfaction of letting her affect her, at least on the outside."

"Is he…?"

"He's a Half-Blood, but you know how it is in the Ministry." Ron's jaw clenched behind her.

Hermione sighed. "So, when is the meeting?"

"Oh! Right. Last time we talked about how we're going to destroy the remaining Horcruxes. Obviously that damn snake is one. Ginny and I were kicking around the idea that he might have hidden one in the Elder Wand." Ron ticked off two fingers. "Then, himself." A third finger went up. "But, we don't know where the other four would be."

"We don't know enough about him, so we decided we needed a bug," Ginny replied.

"You've been watching _Ocean's Eleven_!" Hermione grinned at her friend. "I knew that and the T.V. set was a good birthday present."

"It's bloody weird, is what it was," Ron muttered under his breath.

"_Anyway_, we need someone on the inside. Luckily, we do have a certain Slytherin that is more than willing to do this," Ginny continued.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

Ginny grinned evilly. "Oh, you'll see. She'll be at the meeting today. Speaking of, we need to leave for that. Now."

"All right, here we go," Ron stood up and grabbed Ginny's and Hermione's hands. Hermione felt the familiar sensation of her insides being squeezed through a tube as she watched Ron's apartment blur and vanish completely.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

A striking young woman rose out of her seat from the shadows. There were suppressed jeers and laughter at the newcomer, but her face was placid. Her hood fell from her face, revealing her pin-straight black hair and defined features. She took her place in front of the Dark Lord and waited, anxiety thrumming under her rib cage.

"Ah, Miss Parkinson," The Dark Lord's voice was smooth and threatening. "How nice of you to join us."

Draco's head snapped up when he heard Pansy's name. His grey eyes scanned the room for her familiar figure and his gaze froze on the young woman in front of Dark Lord, letting her mind be invaded for the first time. What the _hell_ was Pansy doing here? It wasn't like she wanted to get involved in this when they were in Hogwarts; unlike Draco, she realized the consequences of her actions. Even after his mission was done and the Death Eaters fled from Hogwarts, he had sent her a message from whatever obscure location Snape had taken them, and made sure that Pansy wouldn't get involved. Their relationship hadn't been rainbows and bunnies, but they had been friends before they got together at Hogwarts. Even after they broke up, they remained friends, mainly through Blaise. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Pansy fought not to scream when the Dark Lord branded her.

"Such strength for someone so young…" The Dark Lord trailed off, maliciously leaving the Mark to burn a moment longer than necessary. "You will need it to serve Lord Voldemort." His scarlet pupils glittered as he gazed intently at Pansy, her stony expression cracking ever so slightly. "Miss Parkinson, you will be assisting Mister Malfoy with his job. He'll explain what has to be done." Voldemort let go of Pansy's forearm unexpectedly, causing her to stumble back a few steps. The laughter was more pronounced, and Draco felt the rage burning in his gut.

_Control it. Emotions are weak._

Draco smoothed his face into his usual cool and composed mask. Pansy sat down in the empty seat next to him, and the two of them acted as though they hadn't met each other. Draco kept his eyes straight forward, while Pansy looked down and fidgeted with her robes. The meeting seemed to last an eternity as Voldemort talked logistics about taking down Hermione's little underground project. He forced himself not to think about her. _It was just that she made him so __**angry**__. _She knew nothing. Nothing. Yet, she passes judgment on _him_? The fact that she presumed to know _anything_ about him made him want to _Crucio_ something.

And the fact that they kissed didn't make anything better. She actually thought that this was going somewhere, when really it was just a reaction to extenuating circumstances….wasn't it? It wasn't like he didn't like kissing Hermione – he did like it. But if this actually _did _go anywhere – wait, what was he thinking? This could never go anywhere. They were on the opposite sides of the spectrum. She was working to tear down the very thing that defined who he was in the Wizarding world. He was shaken out of his reverie by Pansy's arm clamping around him and Apparating out of the meeting hall into his flat.

"Merlin, Pansy, give me some damn warning next time," Draco wheezed, holding his chest.

"Well, look at you, Mr. Sensitive. Are you talking to me now?" Pansy snapped, throwing off her robes onto the couch. She left the living room and stalked into Draco's room, rummaging through his clothes for a T-shirt to wear.

Draco sighed. "You _know_ I couldn't talk to you there. Speaking of which, what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

Pansy emerged in Draco's basketball shorts and baggy grey T-shirt. "Getting comfortable, what does it look like?"

Draco drew a long breath through his nose. "You know what I meant."

"I have my reasons," Pansy replied enigmatically. "Excuse me for not wanting to share them with _you_, Supposed-Best-Friend-Who-Hasn't-Talked-To-Me-In-Weeks."

"I have _my_ reasons," Draco echoed back, defensively. "I couldn't talk to you because I was on a mission for the Ministry."

"You didn't come to see me when you came back!" Pansy exclaimed, half-laughing at the excuse.

"Fine. _Fine._ You win," Draco conceded, rolling his eyes.

"Are you just going to stand there or give me a hug?" Pansy demanded, hands on her hips. Sweet Merlin, he forgot how much she annoyed him – in a good way. Draco allowed a small smile to slip through his pursed lips and lifted up Pansy in his bear hug.

"It's nice to see you again, Pans."

"Don't call me that," Pansy snapped sharply, but her expression was soft. "So, catch me up on your life. What's been -?"

Suddenly, Blaise burst through the door, his lips glued to Marie's. Pansy raised her eyebrows at Draco. Draco shrugged and rolled his eyes. Blaise finally realized that there were two other people in the room when Marie suddenly disentangled herself from him and attempted to look presentable.

Pansy smiled like a cat. "Hi."

"P-Pansy," Blaise stuttered, obviously embarrassed. Draco bit his lip to keep from laughing. "What are you doing here? What is she doing here?" He asked, turning to Draco.

"She's just visiting," Draco replied in a detached voice. Pansy rolled her eyes. She knew that tone of voice all too well.

"Yep, just dropping by. _Draco_, here, hasn't been attempting to keep in touch, even though we work in the same building. So I decided to take matters into my own hands."

Blaise gave them a look that stated he clearly wasn't buying it, but didn't say anything. Turning to Marie, he whispered something in her ear. She smirked and pecked him quickly on the cheek before leaving. Closing the door behind him, Blaise asked, "So why are you _really_ here?"

Pansy looked at Draco for a brief second and he shrugged, indicating she could trust Blaise. Hesitating, Pansy turned over her left forearm. Blaise let out a breath like he had been punched in the gut. The Mark wasn't how it looked like on Draco. His Dark Mark seemed to conform to his being completely and was almost as if he had had it longer than he had been branded – like it was a part of him before Voldemort ever came back to power. Pansy's was raw and red and jutted out against her ivory skin like a sore thumb. It seemed unnatural to have her branded. Blaise's eyes darkened as he searched Pansy's face.

"And this is what you really want to do?" He asked her softly.

"Of course," Pansy replied, a tad flippant. Blaise clenched his fists against his sides.

"All right," He bit out with difficulty. "You're my friends, I respect your decisions. Just don't come _crying_ to me when he decides to _Crucio_ your pretty little behind," He glared at Pansy and stalked out of the room, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

"Pansy…" Draco sighed, shaking his head.

"What?"

"You realize you're a complete arse sometimes?"

Pansy sighed and flopped backwards onto the couch. "I know. "


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

It had been a horribly dull day at the Ministry for Hermione. Thankfully, she was almost done with her Everest of paperwork. She didn't see the point of filling out these forms in the first place, other than witness statements. Writing down her report of what happened was all right, but most of the paperwork had to do with balancing her accounts and how much of her salary would go to the Ministry. The thought of all those numbers just made her eyes glaze over, until she felt a strong arm yank her from her chair, shoot a quickspell to momentarily distract the workers, and pull her into the men's bathroom before locking the door. Hermione glanced at her captor and he was stony-faced.

"You wanted to talk. Talk," It seemed to cause Draco physical pain to say this. Hermione wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily.

"Talk about what? According to you, there's nothing to talk about," Hermione sniped, glaring at the brooding man in front of her. Draco pressed his lips into a hard line, determined not to pick at this subject first. His hard slate eyes bored into her, forcing her to speak. "Maybe you're right, maybe it didn't mean anything," she mumbled, scuffing her shoe absently on the tile floor.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Speculation wasn't what I brought you here for."

"I don't _have _all the bloody answers all the time!" Hermione half-screamed at him, frustration contorting her face. Alarm flickered across Draco's face as he shot a _Muffliato_ through the door. "You don't give me and sign of how you're really feeling. You don't give me anything to work with to even figure out what's between us, if anything," Hermione added through gritted teeth. That paperwork was looking better and better.

"Look, I don't know what 'this' is any better than you do," Draco replied, his vow low with barely contained frustration. He took several large strides towards Hermione, coming face to face with her. Fear, among other things, darkened Hermione's gaze as she looked him dead in the eye. "All I know is…" He paused as his voice trailed off, registering Hermione's closeness and her eyes locked with his. He cleared his throat. "All…all I know -"Draco cut himself off, the heat of Hermione's body distracting him from all coherent thought. Merlin, this was a disaster. Hermione smirked and Draco saw the sarcastic comment that was bursting to spill from her lips before she said it, so he did the first thing he could think of and kissed her.

Hermione gasped as she felt his lips press against hers persistently. They moved against hers ardently, until she kissed him back and strange familiar ways. His arms found a way to themselves around her, bringing her from the door and pressed against him. She brought her hand to his face, through his hair, and then settled on gripping his shoulders. She opened her mouth and felt his tongue slip through as she clenched the fabric of his shirt. This was confusing, contradictory, and everything in between – but Hermione loved it. Draco's fingers slipped under her shirt, tracing patterns her flesh with his long fingers. He unglued himself from her mouth and dropped kisses to her neck, down to her shoulder; suddenly impatient with the cloth covering her shoulder, he unbuttoned her shirt in one swift movement and resumed his previous activity. They staggered backwards, hitting the bathroom door and Hermione felt a slight bruise bloom on the back of her head, but she would worry about that later. She roughly brought Draco's face back to hers and kissed him, shoving his shirt upwards and running her warm hands against his stomach, chest, and slipped them under the fabric to feel the muscles of his shoulders and back. She peeled of his shirt, blissfully unaware of anything else but the feel of his hands on her body and his lips on her and her overwhelming need for him. She opened her eyes to look at him and realized after two seconds that this was a bad idea. The black spider web lines had become so much more pronounced now. She suddenly realized why Draco didn't wear his usual white collared shirt anymore. She froze with Draco's face nestled in the crook between her shoulder and neck.

"Draco," Her voice was husky and she attempted to clear her throat.

"Mmmm," His voice was rough and muffled by her skin. He kissed her there lingeringly, and Hermione's nails dug into his skin instinctively. He kissed her neck and playfully caught her ear in between his teeth before relinquishing it for his original spot.

"How long?" She asked, staring at his chest.

Draco refused to remove his face from the crook. "Well, I don't know… I mean, it depends on the girl. With you, it would probably take - "

"God, no, that's not what I meant," Hermione wrinkled her nose. She traced on finger down the path of one of the spidery lines down his torso. She felt him hiss as he finally looked at her with angry, unfocused eyes.

"Is it your job in life to be a buzz-kill?" Draco grumbled, loosening his grip on her. She wished he wouldn't.

"_No_, I'm just worried about how bad it's getting," Hermione retorted. Draco moved a little farther from her get a better view of her face. Hermione felt the warmth of his body rapidly disappear, and her hand instinctively reached out for his, which was a couple inches away from her, but she dropped it to her side before she thought he noticed.

"I'm taking care of it," Draco replied, a hint of coldness entering his voice.

"Stop that," Hermione said sharply.

"Stop….talking?" Draco asked, playing dumb just to infuriate Hermione.

"You _know_ what I mean," Hermione's eyes narrowed before a tired expression crossed her face. "If we're going to be together, we can't keep doing this to each other."

"Who said we're going to be together?" Draco asked coolly, but Hermione didn't miss the note of panic in his voice. "Why can't we just have fantastic snogging and leave it at that?"

Hermione smirked and rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Draco. You _really_ think that's going to be enough? For either of us?" Judging by Draco's expression, Hermione saw that he had caught the double meaning in her words.

"Which 'that' are you -?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. And of course you'll never find out if we just 'have fantastic snogging and leave it at that'."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You drive a hard bargain, Granger."

Hermione grinned infuriatingly. "I learn from the best."

It was Draco's turn to grin. "Never thought the day would come where Hermione Granger would admit that Draco _Malfoy_ was better at something than her."

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's not what I meant –"

"It's all right to admit defeat, Hermione. It's ok to be bad at _one_ thing in your life."

"Hey, I never said that I was –"Her retort was cut off by a quick kiss.

"You really do talk enough for the two of us," Draco smirked as he disengaged from Hermione.

Hermione sighed. "So, when we leave the men's bathroom, are you going to be a prat again?"

Draco shrugged. "Probably." Glancing at Hermione's disappointed face, he added. "Make it up to you, later?"

"Fine." Hermione smiled with saccharine sweetness as an idea popped into her head. "Dinner, my place, 7 o' clock. Be there, or I won't forgive you for your prat-like tendencies."

After the two had dressed and made themselves presentable, Draco opened the door so Hermione could leave. She quickly peeked around the bathroom door to make sure the coast was clear and scurried to her work station. Draco smirked to himself and sauntered towards his desk, running his large hand through his blonde hair. His eyes found Hermione from across the room and his smirk deepened as Hermione flushed a deep red when she looked at him. Somehow, this day had just gotten much more entertaining.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

_That review button gets lonely! Review it up : ) I had way too much fun writing this chapter._

_ Sorry if there was any confusion concerning the timeline. I kind of cut back and forth between flashbacks and present day, but I'm not sure if that was too clear. (This is regarding the first couple chapters)_

"You're looking nice."

Draco looked up from the tie he was doing and half-smirked at Pansy. He was wearing a light blue dress shirt with a black tie and a black overcoat on top of his shirt. His blonde hair was its usual disarray, catching the light at odd moments and drifting in front of his face enough for his to push rake his fingers through it and push it away from his face. He wore dark blue jeans that Pansy had picked out for him last year for his birthday. "Are you saying I don't normally look nice?"

Pansy rolled her eyes and didn't grace the question with an answer. "So, where are you off to looking all handsome? Or should I say, _who_?"

"Wouldn't you like to know…" Draco replied enigmatically, straightening his tie for the hundredth time. No matter how much he tried to fix it, it still stood up at an awkward angle.

"Merlin, you're still no good at this without me," Pansy sighed exasperatedly, fixing his knot in one swift move, almost choking Draco.

"Trying to kill me, are we?" Draco wheezed, loosening the stranglehold of the tie. "Excuse me, Pansy, I got along just fine without you."

"Oh, please. I bet you didn't go one day without my tie-fixing abilities," Pansy scoffed, while straightening Draco's collar.

Draco put on a poker face. "Are you finished?"

"Now I am," Pansy replied after smoothing down his shirt. "Awww, little Drakie's all grown up. Merlin, a date would be good for you from what Blaise tells me."

"I should be happy you two are speaking again, but somehow I think that communication between you two bodes ill for me." Pansy and Blaise had not spoken to each other for two weeks after the Dark Mark debacle. Draco could still tell that Blaise was disturbed, but he hid it well to keep the peace between him and Pansy.

"Shut it, Pansy!" Blaise's irritated drawl came from the living room.

"What did Blaise tell you, exactly?" Draco asked warily.

Pansy said nothing but grinned lecherously.

"Blaise…" Draco called from his bedroom, but only got a muffled laugh in response.

"Nothing she hasn't already figured out, mate."

"Well, that's just bloody great," Draco muttered, wondering if he was this transparent to Hermione.

"Get your knickers out of a twist, sweetheart," Pansy commented flippantly. "I'm sure this girl wouldn't have agreed to go out with you if she knew you half as well as Blaise and I do."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence, Pansy," Draco replied sarcastically.

"Well, I'm going to get of your hair so you can psych yourself out about this date some more in peace," Pansy languidly got up from her post on Draco's bed and sauntered to the living room to have a beer with Blaise. Draco heard her ringing laughter from the living room and shook his head. The three of them were an unlikely group, yet they fit together like puzzle pieces. He would never admit it, but he was thankful for his two best friends beyond measure, despite how painfully annoying they could be.

"All right, I'm off!" Draco closed his bedroom door and passed a Pansy in hysterics (Probably something Blaise said about him – Draco tended to be the butt of their jokes.) "Don't wait up." Blaise waved him off, acknowledging he has said something, while laughing himself.

"G-g-ood luck!" Pansy stammered, clutching her sides.

"Seriously, what's so bloody funny?" Draco scowled at the pair of them.

"Nothing!" The two of them straightened up and valiantly tried to stop their laughter from spilling over their lips while their bodies shook with suppressed giggles.

Draco looked at the table. There were only a couple beer bottles on the table, but Draco knew Pansy's low alcohol tolerance better than anyone else. "Blaise, don't let her drink anymore," Draco warned, rolling his eyes at Pansy.

"Sure thing. Good luck on your date," Blaise replied, still biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Thanks," Draco grinned at his friend, before stepping out of his apartment and Apparating to Hermione's flat. Draco's feet met solid ground in front of a wooden door. Taking a deep breath, he rotated his neck in a circle and shook the jitters from his fingers. He raised one fist and knocked.

"Coming!" Answered a slightly breathless Hermione. She opened the door and appeared in front of Draco with Biddy in one arm. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed – it was obvious that she had been chasing Biddy around, trying to get her to settle down. Pushing a stray curl behind her ear, Hermione offered him a small smile. "Hi." Biddy hastily squirmed out of Hermione's grip and hurtled towards Draco, who easily lifted her into his arms.

Draco smiled down at the girl. "Hi there," He said. Looking at Hermione, he added, "Hi."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling at the comfort level between Draco and Biddy, despite their time apart. She watched them for a few moments, forgetting why Draco was here in the first place. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry – come in," She said, snapping out of her reverie. She opened the door so Draco could sidle inside with Biddy's hands clamped around his neck. The two of them made an odd picture. Hermione closed the door behind them, shaking her head. The three of them sat down on Hermione's sofa and Biddy slid off of Draco's torso and satisfied herself with sitting next to him and grasping his pointer finger.

"How come you didn't come and see me, Drake?" Biddy asked. This question had obviously been distressing her for some time. Draco found it hard to meet her wide eyes.

"I – I couldn't, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

Biddy's eyebrow's furrowed, digesting what Draco had said. After a long pause, Biddy conclude, "You don't like me anymore."

"Biddy – Biddy, listen to me," Draco kneeled down in front of her so he could look at her properly. Silver eyes met sullen brown ones. "Of course I like you – who wouldn't? I – I just…I had some things…" He looked over his shoulder at Hermione helplessly. She had been silent throughout the entire conversation, her expression rigid. Softening, she decided to come to his aid.

"Draco isn't always going to be here, sweetie. But that doesn't mean that he isn't thinking about your, or he doesn't love you," Hermione said, coming forward to stand next to Draco. She stroked Biddy's hair once and smiled. "Isn't it time for bed, missy?"

A mischievous glint came into Biddy's eyes. "No!" She exclaimed, hiding behind Draco's body.

"Oh yes!" Hermione grinned and scooped up Biddy and pretended she was an airplane as they entered Biddy's bedroom. Draco buried his face in his hands, guilt spiraling upwards and jangling his ribcage to enter his heart. Why couldn't she have just hired a damn babysitter and left his conscience in peace? He knew that wasn't entirely true – he would have never forgiven himself if he stopped seeing Biddy, regardless of the circumstances. He snapped his head up when he heard the door close behind Hermione. Hermione stood awkwardly a few feet away from him before joining him on the sofa.

"I'm sorry, that couldn't have been easy," She said after a while.

"It wasn't," Draco admitted slowly. "I'll just have to come around more often, I suppose." Hermione shifted in her seat minutely and ran her hand through her hair. "You didn't tell her about…me?"

"Of course not, Draco. She's three years old."

"Right," Draco agreed uneasily. After a short pause he asked, "So you're going to take care of her, then?"

"Well, yes. Your level of involvement is up to you."

Draco frowned. "It's not that I don't want to help -"

"It's just that she can't trust you to be here all the time," Hermione cut him off flatly, but her expression desperately wanted to believe otherwise. Draco suspected they weren't talking about only Biddy anymore.

"Are we really going to get into it, _now_? Of all the other times we could argue about something…" Draco gave half-groan of frustration, leaning his head back on the sofa.

Hermione took a deep breath and steadied herself. "All right." She bit back the question about her missing Galleon. No, no, that would come when she had some proof of him actually taking it. Nothing good ever came out of false accusations. She curled her legs to her side and rested her head on her hand which was on top of the sofa so she was facing him. "All right. So, what did you do today?"

Draco smiled as he shifted slightly to face Hermione. "My day was fairly boring, to be honest. My mother has been nagging me to go to one of the parties she's throwing to impress some famous wizard or another. Blaise tried to take me out to a club, which I vehemently refused –"

"Ever the social butterfly," Hermione commented sardonically as a bemused half-smile spread across her face.

"I've gotten enough social events and parties shoved down my throat to last me a lifetime. They're overrated, believe me."

"At least you've gotten to enjoy all that," Hermione gestured vaguely. "In Hogwarts, I was too focused on doing well in school to even bother going to parties. After I graduated, all I wanted to do was work in the Ministry and become an Auror. It took a toll on my personal life, I'll tell you that."

"Well, you weren't missing much in those Gryffindor parties. If we didn't hate each other in school, I would have invited you to one of the Slytherin parties. They made your parties look tame." Draco grinned at her.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Ron did five shots of Firewhisky off of Lavender Brown's stomach."

"Everyday occurrences," Draco scoffed. Goyle woke up one morning with a pineapple on one side of his bed, Millicent Bullstrode on the other, and tattoo."

"Oh god, not Millicent," Hermione wrinkled her nose. "On second thought, those two _would_ make World's Ugliest Couple."

Draco laughed. "You wouldn't be saying that now. Goyle has actually become quite the ladies' man and Millicent is an actress."

"Do _all_ Slytherins magically become attractive and successful after Hogwarts? I can't imagine either of them like that."

"I was always attractive," Draco smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes but flushed a deep red. "What?" He asked curiously.

"Nothing!" Hermione replied, fanning herself so the color would disappear from her cheeks.

"Oh, don't tell me…" Draco started to laugh.

"Shut _up_," Hermione said, blushing hard and fanned faster.

"It's ok that you thought I was attractive in Hogwarts, Hermione. Half the student body did."

Hermione made a face at him. "Well, maybe I don't think that anymore," She teased.

"Oh, now that's just a bald-faced lie," Draco's smirk deepened. "Our little _encounter_ in the bathroom would have never happened if that was true."

"Hey! Who forced me to go in the bathroom in the first place?"

"No use in arguing, 'Mione. You know I'm right," Draco drawled, running a hand through his feathery blonde hair.

Hermione started a bit at the nickname, but proceeded to cross her arms and turn away from him. Draco wound his arms around and pulled her towards him so she was leaning against him. He pressed his lips against her shoulder, then her neck.

"Not going to work," Hermione replied, stoic. Draco felt her body warm against his, and smiled smugly.

"Oh, really? Shall we test that theory?" Draco whispered into her ear.

Hermione smacked his leg. "Not a theory, _and_ Biddy's in the next room."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, you get a free pass tonight. You're lucky we're not at my place, or that theory would have been proven wrong."

"Mmmm, that's what you think," Hermione replied, but nestled closer to Draco, resting her head on his shoulder.

"That's what I _know_."

Hermione laughed. "You're impossible." Wriggling out of his grasp, she asked, "Do you want something to drink? I have Butterbeer, Firewhisky, water, juice, and a couple leftover beers." She stood up and walked towards the fridge.

"You didn't strike me as the beer-drinking kind of girl," Draco mused.

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me," Hermione gave him a cat-like grin. "I'm actually kind of feeling like Firewhisky tonight."

"Sure, why not?" Draco patted the sofa with his hand and glanced meaningfully at her.

"All right, I'm coming, I'm coming," Hermione laughed, unscrewing the lids. She ran back to the couch and nestled against Draco, passing him his drink. He held the bottle with one hand and another inevitably found itself wrapped around her. Slowly sipping her drink, Hermione sighed as she felt the warm burn travel down her body. "I like this."

"The Firewhisky is good, yes." Draco's eyes twinkled, knowing full well what she meant.

"No, I meant I like being…with you," Hermione elaborated shyly.

"Mmmm," Draco rumbled, holding her closer. He took a long swig from the bottle. Suddenly, he felt a sharp burn on his left arm. "Shit," He cursed, nearly dropping the bottle of Firewhisky. "_Shit_."

"What? What is it?" Hermione whirled around, worried. Draco slid off the couch, clearly agitated.

"I have to go," He said quietly and winced slightly with pain.

Comprehension dawned on Hermione's face. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, I wish I could stay here," Draco said desperately, taking large strides towards Hermione.

"No, no, I know. Go, it's fine," Hermione looked down fixedly at her shag carpet.

"Hermione, please look at me."

The desperation in his voice scared Hermione enough to look at Draco. She bridged the space between them held his face between her hands. "Come back ." She pressed her lips against his and Draco's hands found her waist and drew her closer for one moment before letting her go. By the time Hermione had opened her eyes, he was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"_Tell me where it is_," Draco hissed, shoving a frail looking Dean Thomas against a wall. Dean, however fragile he looked, glared at Draco coldly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He replied in monotone, refusing to look away from his assailant. Draco took a deep breath and composed himself before relinquishing his grip on Dean. Fishing in his pocket, he took out a small golden coin. "I know when you're meeting next. It's only a matter of time before we find out where." He paused. "Don't make this harder than it has to be." Involuntarily, Draco's mind pictured the wrath of Voldemort if he came back empty handed.

"I'm not scum like you," Dean spat angrily. Draco flipped out his wand and Dean gave a hard laugh. "Torture me all you want, it's not like your pals haven't tried to get information out of me already." Draco raised his wand higher. Suddenly, he thought of Hermione waiting for him. Guilt flipped in his gut, but he quickly pushed it away and sent a jet of red out of his wand. He watched Dean screamed and fall to the floor, hunched over in agony.

"I'm going to ask nicely one last time," Draco said, lifting the curse. His tone was deadly. Jabbing his wand into Dean's neck, he asked, "Where is it?"

oOoOoOoOo

Hermione rubbed her eyes and squinted at the clock. It had been two hours. She sighed. He wasn't going to come back. It had been two hours and she knew why he had left. He wasn't going to come back.

Wearily, she started to clean up, throwing out the two Firewhiskey bottles with a little more force than necessary. Why had she even entered into this with him? It wasn't like she didn't know who he was and what he was capable of. She knew that the terrified sixteen year old boy had been replaced by something much more dangerous and unfeeling.

But he wasn't really unfeeling, was he? She couldn't think that after he saw her with Biddy and how he was with Hermione tonight. He was a good person. Maybe "good" was too strong of a word. He wasn't like the other Death Eaters. He seemed genuinely repulsed by Greyback. He had helped her with their assignment –

He had probably stolen her Galleon.

Hermione sat down on her couch and put her head in between her hands. A year ago, she wouldn't have hesitated before hexing him if she had thought he had stolen something that valuable from her. Her feelings were interfering with what was truly important. Sometimes, Hermione wished that she could just be neutral territory, but she knew that was impossible. She prided herself in standing up for her beliefs and what was right. She thought of Harry. Tears welled up in her eyes and she impatiently brushed them away. She knew what Harry would say if he found about Hermione and Draco.

But things had changed, hadn't they? They weren't the same kids they were back in Hogwarts. Some part of her knew that Draco had changed, although his actions never reflected it. She knew that he didn't want to keep doing what he was doing.

Hermione inhaled deeply and lifted her head. She walked to her bedroom and a small smile spread across her face as she saw Biddy sleeping under the covers. She made her way over to her the bed and crawled under the covers. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Hermione woke up to Biddy shaking her awake. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes blearily and glanced at her alarm clock. Realizing the time, she hastily clambered out of her bed. Flipping out her cell phone, she punched in Ginny's number while tripping into her jeans.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gin. Sorry to call you so early, but could you watch Biddy until the babysitter comes to my apartment? I forgot to call her last night to come in today."

"Of course, 'Mione. I'll be there in a minute," Ginny replied reassuringly.

"Thank you so much!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling on her sweater and casting another glance at the clock.

"Don't mention it," Ginny replied and hung up the phone.

Hermione sorted herself out and looked at herself in the mirror. "Well, that's as it good as it's going to get," She muttered.

"I think you look pretty, 'Mione," Biddy chimed in sweetly. Hermione grinned and scooped up Biddy in her arms.

"Not as pretty as you," Hermione said, kissing Biddy on the cheek. "Listen, Bid, 'Mione has to go to work really soon, so Aunt Ginny is going to come spend time with you until Melanie gets here, ok?"

Biddy furrowed her eyebrows. "Aunt Ginny? I want Drake." Hermione kicked herself mentally. In hindsight, having Draco see Biddy yesterday was a bad idea, she realized.

"But you love your Aunt Ginny," Hermione reasoned, keeping her expression pleasant.

Biddy's face cracked into a wide grin. "Do you think she'll take me to get ice cream again?"

"You'll just have to ask her yourself," Hermione replied as she heard a faint _crack_ outside her front door. With Biddy still in her arms, Hermione jogged over to the door to let Ginny in.

"How's my favorite girl?" Ginny asked as Hermione place Biddy into her arms.

"Goo-ooood," Biddy responded, delighted at all the attention.

"You're good to go?" Hermione asked Ginny. "You know where everything is?"

"_Yes_, Hermione. Now, get going or you'll be really late."

Hermione shot her friend a grateful look and gave Biddy one last kiss. "I'll see you at the end of the day, sweetheart." Hermione waved goodbye to both of them and Disapparated. She arrived at the Ministry slightly out of breath and power-walked to her desk.

"Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" Ron asked with an amused expression. Hermione jumped in her chair swiveled around to mock glare at him.

"I overslept," Hermione replied stiffly. Ron only shook his head and smiled.

"Ginny told me," He replied, still smiling to himself. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"You're awfully chipper this morning," Hermione grumbled. She caught Ron looking over his shoulder at one of the pretty breakfast stand girls. "Is _that_ why you're so happy?" Hermione asked, smirking.

"What?" Ron asked distractedly. "What? No, no, of course not," Ron mumbled, fighting to keep a smile off his face.

"You have me convinced," Hermione replied sarcastically.

"Can you blame me? I had been hung up on you for ages."

"Ron, I'm happy for you. Really," Hermione smiled. She was relieved that he had moved on with someone who was uncomplicated. Ron returned her smile.

"Me too, Hermione. Me too." Ron blushed faintly as he shot one last look at the girl and wandered back to his desk.

Ron's good mood was infectious and Hermione couldn't help but sport a smile of her own as she worked. She examined her new case files and her good mood began to ebb. Muggle deaths had become so commonplace that the Ministry had put into place protocol that dealt with these murders in the most efficient way possible. Hermione found it disturbing that the government had become so jaded about these murders. Hermione sighed and filled out a couple forms that delegated this investigation to a couple junior Aurors.

"Hermione."

Hermione jumped for the second time, her stomach flipping. She would know that voice anywhere. Deliberately putting down her pen, she met his silver eyes. He looked exhausted. Inhaling sharply, she asked, "What?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably for a moment. He leaned over Hermione's desk. "Could I talk to you for minute?" He asked quietly, intensely aware of Ron trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. "In private?"

Hermione fidgeted with her shirtsleeve before deciding to get up. Ron looked as though he wanted to follow her, but Hermione shook her head once. Ron reluctantly turned away from them. Wordlessly, Hermione led Draco to a deserted corridor. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, daring him to speak first.

Draco took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry - "

"If you apologize, I will throw something at your face," Hermione stated. She expected a heated retort or even a glare. Draco's face sank into lines of exhaustion. Hermione did her best to block out her conscience.

"I am, though. Truly."

"What are you sorry for, exactly?" Hermione asked slowly. Draco looked puzzled.

"I'm sorry for not coming back, obviously."

Hermione looked down and pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She dimly registered Draco walking towards her, unsure of how to bridge the gap between them.

"I know that's not the answer you're looking for," He admitted, taking one of her hands and folding it in between his two palms. Opening her eyes, Hermione drew him closer to her. His arms wrapped around her and Hermione fought to keep her composure, her mouth pressed into a thin line. She linked her hands around his back and rested her cheek against his shoulder. She would try and enjoy this moment before she destroyed it. Draco's lips pressed against her cheek. She was afraid, but she knew she had to ask.

"Did you take it?" Hermione asked, her voice raw.

"Did I take what?" Came the muffled response. Draco felt the tension in her body and leaned back to look at her face. His tone was too soothing, to calm and reassuring for her to completely believe. A small tear escaped from her eye as she reluctantly loosened her grip on him.

"You took it. You took my coin, my Galleon." Hermione felt Draco's arms abruptly let go of her.

"Hermione, I don't know –"

Silently, Hermione flicked her wand and Draco's right pant pocket burned bright red. Alarmed, he tried to move away from Hermione and cover the red. Hermione's Galleon singed a hole through his pants and flew into Hermione's hand. Anger replaced her tears and Hermione's expression hardened. She whirled away from him and started back towards her cubicle.

"Please, Hermione -" Draco grabbed her arm. She stopped walking momentarily, cold fury emanating from her body.

"Let me go if you want to keep that hand," She hissed. Without a word, Draco dropped her arm and Hermione marched back to her workspace to find Ron.


End file.
